


Sanditon Reimagined

by thesispyre2007



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, HEA, Romance, Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 108,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesispyre2007/pseuds/thesispyre2007
Summary: Charlotte Heywood is an architectural historian who has arrived in Sanditon for the summer to research her book on Regency architecture. Sidney Parker is a high-flying art dealer with a troubled past and a host of relationship problems. They are certain that they have nothing in common, but will their families' histories lead them to something more? A sloooow burn that draws on the events (and dialogue) from the television series.We also delve into Esther and Babington's and Georgiana and Otis’s love stories.*** COMPLETE ***
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood & Sidney Parker, Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker, Georgiana Lambe/Otis Molyneux, Lord Babington/Esther Denham
Comments: 1153
Kudos: 797





	1. Return to Sanditon

Charlotte Heywood stepped off the train at Sanditon. It was a functioning Victorian station preserved in a state the likes of which was only seen very rarely in the UK these days. She took a moment to photograph with her iPhone its intricate brickwork and iron crenation with the practiced eye of the architectural historian, and she made a mental note to add an epilogue to her book that touched on the Victorian architecture of the place. 

Charlotte’s recently completed PhD dissertation entitled The Regent’s Folly: Architecture, Speculation and Colonialism in Britain’s Regency Seaside Resorts had earned her the sobriquet of “BDS” among her friends at Cambridge. It had been coined by her ex-boyfriend as a mostly affectionate and occasionally passive-aggressive reference to a glowing viva exam report, which described her rather embarrassingly as a “brilliant doctoral student.” Her supervisor, who in the latter years of her research and writing had frankly doubled as a mental health councillor, older sister, and strict disciplinarian in that complicated way that dissertation supervisors often do, told her to embrace the compliment. Thus far she had lived up to her reputation in the receipt of a permanent job offer as a lecturer at Birkbeck in the autumn and a contract with Yale University Press for the publication of her first book. This summer, fresh off the end of the relationship with said ex-boyfriend – which had frankly been terminal and somewhat toxic for at least half of its two-year duration – and now homeless from the loss of the flat in Cambridge that had gone with him, Charlotte decided that instead of moving back to her parents’ house, where four of her six siblings were still at home, she would relocate for a few months to the sleepy, seaside town of Sanditon to finish her book and follow up on a few new research leads.

She picked up her bags, checked google maps on her phone for the correct address, and headed in the direction of the seafront promenade to her flat where she was to meet the owner.

It was a longer walk than she had anticipated: she had to pass through a rather unpromising wasteland that included the requisite giant Tesco, a couple of betting shops, and a generic fried chicken joint to get to the old town. When Charlotte’s personal life imploded, she had camped out in her supervisor’s guest room, and it had been her supervisor’s idea that she check out some understudied architectural gems in Sanditon over the summer. Ironically, Charlotte had grown up not 15 miles away from the town and yet had never visited it, preferring instead to hit the beaches or to party in Brighton during her teenage years. Likewise, her dissertation had kept her focused on case-studies in Brighton, Worthing and Weymouth, and although she knew that Pevsner had highlighted some promising architectural gems in Sanditon and was aware of the famous but long-demolished Pagoda designed by James Stringer to honor the Regent’s ascent to the throne, thus far Charlotte was underwhelmed. She was used to looking for diamonds in the rough under layers of bad renovation decisions, but her walk into town so far had only revealed the town planning and development mistakes of the past 50 years. She was sweaty, tired, and frankly wondering if she had made a wise decision. As she approached the old town, however, she began to feel herself pleasantly surprised: she increasingly began to spot wonderful details and masonry that were a sure mark of interesting architectural heritage. All at once she knew that this place had the potential to be more than a footnote in her book. 

The promenade with its elegant crescent of townhouses built to attract a wealthy clientele, had been built over and elaborated in later years but the original bone structure was still visible. She could still see where Stringer’s pagoda must have once stood, though it had been torn down during the early years of Victoria’s reign to make way for more houses as the town’s popularity as a bathing spot among the merchant and middle classes grew. She lamented that no drawings or plans of it survived, only descriptions, for it must have been a spectacular folly and monument to all the town’s earliest hopes and dreams of grandeur. The pagoda was one of the buildings she hoped to learn more about while she was here, that and Trafalgar House – which by all accounts was an extraordinary example of eccentric Regency architecture heavily influenced by Sir John Soane's house – and which was apparently still in the hands of the family that had built it over two hundred years ago. She reached the Regency townhouse that had been converted into flats, one of which was to be her home for the next few months, and was met by a smiling, attractive, blonde woman who immediately introduced herself as Marion Parker. Charlotte liked her at once and the two women chatted comfortably as they climbed the flights of steps to her second-floor flat. Charlotte was pleasantly surprised by the state of the building and by the apartment itself which has been sensitively and beautifully restored, and she said so. 

“Ah yes, well I am glad you approve! When you told me in your email that you were an architectural historian, I saved the best one for you. My husband’s family have lived in Sanditon for over three hundred years and they take their role as custodians of the town’s heritage very seriously.”

“You aren’t by any chance related to the descendants of one the Parker brothers who developed Sanditon in the early part of the nineteenth century are you?”

“Yes, that’s us. All of these houses belong to the Parker Trust – which used to be known as the Brothers Parker Ltd. Brothers run in the Parker family: my husband has two, as well as a sister.”

“Oh that’s wonderful. I would love to pick his brain sometime about the town’s history,” cried Charlotte enthusiastically. “Do you know who owns Trafalgar House? I hear it’s almost untouched and I would really love to see it and possibly take some notes.”

“You’re definitely in luck today, Charlotte. We live in Trafalgar House – though one of my brothers-in-law has a separate annex with a flat. The majority of the house is exactly how it was, however. Why don’t you join us for dinner this evening and have a look? My husband would be delighted to meet you – he’s quite a Sanditon enthusiast as his father was before him. That seems to run in the Parker family too! He will certainly be of some help to you. The Trust still owns a lot of the oldest buildings in the city and we have an extensive family archive – you’re welcome to explore them all.” 

Charlotte gratefully accepted the offer and marvelled at her luck at meeting with one of the Parkers so quickly on arrival. She was very keen to see the house and to learn more about the archive. After a quick tour and some tips about the sticky lock, Marion left Charlotte to her own devices and suggested she come by around 7 for drinks followed by dinner once the children were in bed. Charlotte unpacked and looked around her, admiring the beautiful proportions of the main living space and the bedroom. The windows were enormous and had a glorious view across the promenade and the beach out to the sea. The furniture was simple but tasteful and included many antiques, and in a nice touch the walls were decorated with framed architectural plans of the city and 18th-century prints. It was not yet high season, but Sanditon was still a popular summer holiday destination and this flat would surely have been a lucrative rental for the Parkers as the season got busier, and certainly during the weekend of the town’s long-running annual regatta at the end of July. She felt lucky to have it. 

Charlotte spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the town and taking notes on her observations. There were many buildings that were clearly being used as Airbnb or holiday lets, but the town had an active local community group and independent shops, cafes and bakeries were starting to spring up. Marion mentioned in passing that her husband wanted to promote this gentrification and was eager to attract young Londoners, who were being priced out of the city, to Sanditon with its direct train routes to Brighton and Victoria Station. His plan was still in its infancy, but it seemed be picking up steam and before long she could see that it might become something of a Frome on the coast. She wondered, however, what the locals thought of being priced out of the centre of town and pushed into the fringes – gentrification could be a double-edged sword, and now it was happening in the countryside too. She had seen that with her father’s Sussex farm. As Londoners searched for picturesque country places near enough to come up for the weekend her father had been besieged by offers to buy their small 16th-century manor house – it was crumbling, and expensive to run and not nearly so grand as it sounded, but it had been home to their family for as long as there had been records in the area. She loved it and her father loved it even more, but she knew her parents couldn’t really afford it: farming was hard and their income now came mostly from the proceeds of selling off parcels of land to developers and from a handful of rents. A few bad years meant that the house itself was becoming a money pit and offers from wealthy city people were getting bigger and harder to turn down, but none of them could imagine living anywhere else.

Charlotte paused on the promenade to watch as the sun started its descent over the horizon and the gulls picked their way through the nude pearl sky. She was sure she had made the right decision in coming here, and she smiled as she turned for home to change for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte arrives in Sanditon
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477832013793/
> 
> Mary's look  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/301952350015180402/


	2. Dinner at Trafalgar House

Charlotte showered and dressed carefully for the evening – deciding on something elegantly casual but serious enough to indicate that she was professional. After all, she didn’t know these people, and jeans and chuck taylors might not quite cut it even for what Marion had called a casual meal. Marion seemed very simply but expensively dressed is a slightly bohemian way, so she decided to play it safe and put on her all-purpose black knit swingy midi dress. It was form-fitting but high cut with ¾ length sleeves and not overtly sexy especially when paired with a pair of simple flat shoes, no makeup other than a bit of red lipstick, and her glasses. She put her hair up in an elegant but messy clip and was satisfied with what she saw in the mirror. It was nice enough to have made an effort, but not too much to make anyone uncomfortable – and she looked serious – this was important as she was often mistaken for being much younger than her 28 years and felt she sometimes had prove herself at conferences and job interviews. She needed Tom Parker to realise that her book would be the defining work on the subject of seaside resort architecture in the period if she was going to make any headway with the new chapter and the case-study she was already starting to envision on Sanditon and the Parker brothers. She picked up the bottle of organic wine she had bought at the hipster wine shop on the high street and headed out into the mild Spring evening air. 

Trafalgar House was located in a prime position on what was once the edge of town with incredible seaviews from virtually every window across the cliffs to the east of town as well as across the promenade. The oldest pub in town, The Crowne, was located across the street.

Tom and Marion Parker and their three children greeted her warmly as she walked through the door. Though she did not consider herself terribly domestic, Charlotte admitted that they were a charming family and the children were adorable. The kids were in their pyjamas but were excited to be able to to stay up to wait for their uncle who had texted unexpectedly to say that he was in the neighbourhood on business and was coming to stay in his apartment at the back of the house for a night. He had been invited for dinner and Charlotte’s apologies for intruding on what had now turned into a family meal were swept away good-naturedly by Marion. She was delighted to have Charlotte there and hoped that they could make it a regular thing; besides, her brother-in-law Sidney might be helpful to her. He was a co-founder of one of the largest blue chip contemporary art galleries in the world and he also oversaw the part of the family archive that included original drawings and the like. 

Charlotte soon saw that if Sidney was anything like Tom she would have nothing to fear about gaining access to the family’s private papers and drawings. Tom was almost over eager in his enthusiasm for Sanditon and was delighted that Charlotte might have anything approaching his interest in the subject. He showed her around the house with pride, and she took in all the details eagerly. It was absolutely stunning: the plasterwork, the marquetry, the tilework, courtyard and drawing room were intact and better than she had expected. She couldn’t believe that no one had as yet published a full monograph on the house and its decoration, and she was keen to come back and sketch and photograph some of the details. Tom extended a generous offer that she was welcome to do so at any time. Around each corner was another treasure, and Charlotte gave an audible gasp when Tom showed her into his study and revealed his pride - the plaster maquette of the original Regency town that has been made in 1819 by his great, great, great grandfather and namesake, the original Tom Parker. She was already formulating the article she would write in her head when their attention was drawn by the sound of the front door opening and the children’s wild screams of “Uncle Sidney, Uncle Sidney.”

She followed Tom out into the hallway and was surprised to find possibly one of the handsomest men she had ever seen crouched down in the hallway embracing and picking up the kids. He stood up with one on his back and one tucked under each arm and leaned forward to give Marion a quick kiss on the cheek and to wave his fingertips in greeting to Tom. Charlotte felt a bit of an intruder in this scene, and she hung back in the doorway waiting to be noticed and introduced after the din had died down. 

“Sidney, your message was a lovely surprise! We’re so glad you’ve come down, the kids haven’t seen you in months.”

“Sorry about that Mar, it’s been unbelievably busy at work and I was in Hong Kong for two weeks. I’ve missed the kids!" he said affectionately, ruffling their hair. "I'm looking forward to relaxing a bit with all of you before I head back to London tomorrow afternoon. Also, Georgiana will be down from university for the Investors weekend, and I was hoping she could stay here for the summer. She’s not going to Lagos this summer after all, and she’s pretty upset about it. I’ll explain everything later. If you don’t have the space, she can use the annex.”

“Of course, Sidney, you know we always loved to have her on her school holidays. She can stay in her usual room if you prefer to keep your apartment for yourself.” 

Sidney rubbed her arm gratefully and was about to say something else when he suddenly caught sight of Charlotte in the doorway and stopped short. He put the kids down and cast a glance at Marion, saying in an offhand manner,

“Oh! Did you finally get a nanny, Mar? Someone who can handle these rascals, I hope.” 

Marion blushed. 

“Oh no, Sidney! This is Dr Charlotte Heywood. I mentioned her to you. She’s the architectural historian who is here for the summer to write her book, and she’s interested in some of the family archives. We thought you could probably help her with that.”

“Oh right. Sorry.” He said flippantly, attempting to brazen through his embarrassing gaff. 

“When Marion said there was an architectural historian in town, I expected someone a bit ... older.” 

He approached and extended his hand to her with a cautious smile.

“Sidney Parker. How do you do.”

Charlotte was annoyed. He had found her weak spot – inadvertently perhaps – but he had found it and just when she was trying to make an impression. This sort of thing had happened before of course, many times, and she usually tried not to take offense but coming from this handsome corporate smoothy in that expensive suit, which he wore with offhand elegance and no tie, it felt intentional and she didn’t like it one bit. He thinks he can get away with this shit because of who is and how he looks, she thought resentfully. She had met men like this before – the kind who try to tear you down a little bit before they build you up and then probably hit on you. Ugh. Well she wasn’t having it tonight, archive or not. She shook his hand firmly and fixed him with an icy glare.

“Not a problem.” She said between gritted teeth. “We doctors come in all shapes and sizes.”

He had offended her, and he knew it – he sometimes made stupid mistakes like this without thinking, especially when he was tired, but he was resentful (unjustifiably, he acknowledged, as he had not given Marion any advance notice) that he had to socialise with a stranger tonight. It had been a rough week between work and things with Georgiana and he had looked forward to a quiet family meal. He also needed to discuss a few things with Mar and Tom in private and he didn’t want to make small talk or have to listen to Tom rabbit on about Sanditon all bloody evening. Truthfully, he found her quite attractive as well, and that further disturbed and annoyed him.

Ever the consummate hostess, Marion swiftly moved Charlotte and Sidney to the drawing room for an apéritif while Tom ushered the kids upstairs and into bed. 

Sneaking a glance at the new guest, Sidney, feeling a little bad for his mistake, sought to make amends. “What can I get for you, Dr Heywood?” he said politely

“Charlotte is fine. I’ll have a martini rosso, thanks,” she said coldly. Was this jerk trying to patronise her now? 

Sidney turned to the drinks tray to fix her drink and to collect himself, sensing that he had messed up again by being overly formal. This woman was already rubbing him the wrong way: why couldn’t she just accept he had made a mistake? He mixed the drinks while Marion chatted easily with Charlotte about the town and about her work as an art teacher at the local college and a printmaker. He handed Charlotte her drink, and Marion excused herself to quickly check on the meal, suggesting as she left the room that Charlotte might pick Sidney’s brain about the family collection and archive and find out if there was anything that useful for her book. No one knew more about it than him. Relieved that they at least had something to talk about while they were left alone, Sidney was the first to break the ice

“So, tell me about your research then. How can we help?”

Charlotte was nettled by him, but she couldn’t help but acknowledge to herself that he was very, very good-looking, not her type perhaps, but conventionally good-looking nonetheless – and didn’t he know it! She reigned in these thoughts quickly, for she was getting the sense that the success and impact of her book might depend quite a lot on what the Parker archives held. Putting aside her first impression of him for a moment, she launched into a professional explanation of what she hoped could lead to an impactful article at the very least. She questioned him about the archive holdings and explained what sort of things she was looking for. Sidney was drawn in by her focus and found himself becoming interested and even excited by some of her ideas. He was fairly regularly approached by scholars who wanted to reproduce or look at their collection of original drawings for their work, but usually he found it a fairly dull enterprise and handed it off to his assistant. Of course, he was usually dealing with posh old men or amateur enthusiasts, not an intelligent and beautiful woman who wanted to know about the financial underpinnings of property speculation in the period and was particularly interested in any links to the slave trade in the West Indies. He knew it shouldn’t matter that she was attractive but somehow in this case it did. She was not his type perhaps, but nonetheless he admitted to himself that there was something seductive about her even in that austere, nun-like dress. 

Of course, her attractiveness was just that, nothing more and nothing less, just a fact that he observed from his chair near the fire as she spoke animatedly about the trails that had gone cold in her research and that she hoped to find answers to in the Parker papers. In the art circles he moved in there was no shortage of nubile young beauties throwing themselves at men like him, rich men, unattached men (or even married men), men with influence in a rarified world where the ladder to the top could be very slippery indeed. Sidney’s self-control and disinterest was often wondered at by the art bros that he unfortunately had to deal with on a regular basis and who conducted themselves like kids in a candy shop. In truth it disgusted him, and he made it a point never to cross that line himself: the women he dated were generally his age and had nothing to do with his work. 

“Well, I do think we might be able to help you with some of that, actually. No one’s ever really asked about the original Parker brother’s financial situation, but I went through the papers a bit when I was in university and it seems that the eldest brother Tom had some financial difficulties at one point. There was a fire that destroyed the first version of townhouses where you’re now staying. After that there was an influx of money, about £80,000, an astronomical sum at the time, that seemed to come from the second son, Sidney, (we’re not very imaginative with male names in this family) who married a wealthy society widow named Elizabeth Campion. The money probably came from her, though it looks like she died about ten months after they married, from scarlet fever. There were no children mentioned. And then this Sidney just disappears from the records. It’s a bit of a family mystery. We've found no record of where he went next or what he did. Anyhow, we’re descended from Henry, the son of Tom Parker, the hapless elder brother, and his wife Mary and we have a lot of information about them. The interesting thing here is that this Sidney Parker spent about five years in Antigua before his marriage, and again, it’s not clear what he was doing there, but he seems to have increased his fortune significantly, so I can only imagine that he was involved in the slave trade in some way. Maybe he went back after his wife died - who knows? He was the second son, and our archives tend to have more to do with the elder son, Tom. In any case, that might be a lead for you. There are loads more papers, many of them no one has looked at and virtually nothing, other than the drawings, have been published, so you might find some interesting things there. I am sure you also know that James Stringer was from Sanditon and he was involved in much of the building work here before he became famous and before the Pagoda.” 

Charlotte’s eyes lit up and she leaned forward eagerly, concentrating on his every word. This was really interesting stuff, and in addition to what she had only briefly seen of Trafalgar House, there was maybe even enough for another book altogether. He was being really helpful, and she warmed to him a bit.

“That’s really great. Thank you! It sounds really promising. I can’t wait to have a look. Do you know anything about the pagoda? Are there any descriptions?”

“Most scholars who approach us ask about it. But I am pretty sure that every written description has already been published. There’s unfortunately nothing about it in our drawing archive. Most of the papers and drawings are kept here at Trafalgar House but some are in the London house. When you go through everything here, get in touch and I will give you access to what’s stored in London. But I should warn you that nothing’s been catalogued!”

Tom entered the room at this point and Sidney suddenly went silent, allowing his brother to dominate the conversation in the way that he had a tendency to do. He monologized about Sanditon and monopolized Charlotte’s attention, mansplaining her with information that she was most certainly already an expert on regarding the town’s architectural history. Sidney sat back suddenly and let his brother talk. He felt he had got a little carried away by the attentive and serious way Charlotte had fixed her soft brown eyes on him while she listened, and he now felt the need to pull back a little. After all, Sanditon had always been Tom’s project, not his. His job was simply to facilitate and smooth the way, it always had been. In a way, Tom’s enthusiasm could be soothing, it required no input, no encouragement, only a captive audience, and it gave him leisure to inspect Charlotte Heywood more carefully and covertly. Her intelligence was clear; she held herself with quiet and alert confidence. She was very self-controlled, he thought, listening carefully and only speaking when her words had arranged themselves into near perfect paragraphs. She had a teacherly quality about her – no surprise for a university lecturer. She was probably incredibly earnest and political and didn’t ever loosen up or joke or laugh, he told himself. “No time for men or love or fun – an utter bore in life and probably in the sack too,” he thought rather crassly, sipping his drink quietly and observing her from his corner. That’s what he chose to imagine about her in an attempt to smother his interest, conveniently forgetting that his thoughts were forming far too perfectly along the lines of the kind of sexist stereotyping that he would have abhorred had he heard anyone express them aloud. Marion called them in for dinner. Sidney downed the rest of his drink and as he stood aside to allow Charlotte and Tom to go ahead of him into the dining room, another problematic thought jumped into his head, one that almost made him despise himself in the process: “She tries to hide it, but she has a great body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte's black dress
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477830064234/
> 
> Uncle Sidney
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477832427376/


	3. On the Promenade

Dinner began quietly. Marion was a wonderful cook. She enjoyed it and the energy and creativity that she put into her printmaking also went into her cooking. She sparkled at the head of the table, guiding the conversation away from Sanditon and effortlessly containing her husband’s chatter while redirecting to other topics. Charlotte thought she was a marvellous woman. The excellent food and wine and the cosy atmosphere was having an effect on her and she found herself telling them that she had grown up not too far from here in a tiny village called Willingden. She chatted freely about how her parents’ house has inspired her fascination with domestic English architecture, how at first she had thought of becoming an architect, but that a course on Baroque architecture in the Art History department at UCL had changed her focus entirely to the past, especially after she spent her Erasmus year in Rome. 

“Sidney spent his Erasmus year in Rome too!” exclaimed Marion looking over at him significantly, but instead of joining the conversation, as was clearly Marion’s intention, Sidney merely smiled and nodded. Charlotte noticed his reticence to talk about himself and thought that despite Sidney’s helpfulness when they had been alone talking about the archive and the Parker family past, he had gone almost sulky once his brother reappeared and had remained so throughout the meal, staring at her all evening almost disapprovingly as though she was in the way. He was probably angry that he had arrived to find a stranger for dinner. Why did he stay then, she wondered? He could just go to his annex and retire early, but he seemed determined to see her off. It was extremely off putting, but if she thought about it too much she knew it would make her nervous. 

Dessert had long since ended, and as if he could read her thoughts Sidney quickly glanced at his vibrating phone and excused himself from the party, pleading exhaustion and promising to come to the main house for breakfast and a play with the kids before he returned to London on the train. There were some things he needed to discuss with them around Georgiana’s stay. He shook hands with Charlotte and wished her well with her book, making a point of referring her to Tom if she needed any advice about the archive. Charlotte nodded at him and wondered at his manner as he left quietly and closed the door behind him. He had seemed so potentially helpful and interested in her project when they had discussed it alone and had offered to personally help with the London papers. But now he was all but washing his hands of her entirely, although it was clear he had a much better idea of where she should search than his brother, whose approach to Sanditon – its past, present and future – she could tell was somewhat scattergun. She perceived she would be on her own her and that Tom, enthusiastic though he was, was also more likely to be a hinderance to her than a help. After dinner they moved into the drawing room again and Charlotte was mentally calculating what would be the right moment to make an end to the evening. Tom had invited her to return the next day to start looking through the Parker papers immediately – and she didn’t want to overstay her welcome now, especially since Sidney had made it clear he had private matters to discuss with them and that she was in the way.

She soon rose to head home, and Tom and Marion saw her to the door securing her promise that she would come regularly for a meal with them and the children. She shook hands with Tom, and when her husband went back to clear the table Marion wrapped her in a warm hug stopping her on the doorstep. 

“I hope Sidney didn’t give offense. He can be rather brusque in his manner, but he has a very good heart. He clearly had something on his mind this evening, he’s not usually so quiet, but I am sure the next time you meet him he’ll be more helpful. Good night my dear. See you tomorrow.”

Charlotte wasn’t so sure, but in any case she didn’t expect that she would have much to do with him over the next few months. If she did end up needing to look at the papers in London, she could organise it through Tom. It wasn’t a long walk back to her flat, but the night was clear and the moon and stars were shining out over the sea turning the cliffs into dark spectres beyond the beach. One or two restaurants were still open, and there were a few people milling about along the promenade enjoying the mild May evening. Sanditon suddenly seemed very beautiful to Charlotte and she stepped toward the rail that led down to the beach, leaning over to get a better look out to sea. She took off her glasses and rubbed her nose, putting them in her jacket pocket, before reaching up and taking down her hair, ruffling it and enjoying the cool night breeze moving the curls on her neck and cooling her wine flushed cheeks.

“Made your escape then, Dr Heywood?” said a deep voice behind her.

She looked up, startled. She had barely noticed that there was a person sitting smoking on a bench facing the sea a few feet away.

“It was a lovely evening. Your brother and sister-in law are incredibly generous and welcoming.”

Sidney smirked a bit at her reply and got up to stand on the rail closer to her, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth and flicking ash over the rail.

“Yes. They are.” He said leaning towards the sea. “Marion’s the best.”

“She really is! And Tom, too – he’s been very kind about the archive. I only arrived this morning and I already have an appointment to look at some of the papers tomorrow.”

“Got what you came for then?” 

Charlotte gave him a quizzical look.

“I came here to finish my book in peace, so I suppose so. Yes.” 

“Good. Good,” he replied nodding. “We all know how hectic Cambridge is!” 

Charlotte grimaced. Why was he being so strange with her? She shot back, a little impatiently, 

“Right, well, since you seem to want a better explanation for my being here: I couldn’t stay in Cambridge anymore even if I had wanted to. The flat belonged to my boyfriend, and it didn't really seem right to stay once we broke up.” 

“Oh?” he seemed distinctly uninterested despite having basically pushed her into this confession, and now she just felt silly. He offered her a cigarette from his pack, which she refused, inadvertently wrinkling her nose slightly.

“Right, sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t be a smoker. It's a bad habit. I ought to give it up, but I like it too much. I wanted to sneak a quick one in before I head to bed, and I can’t smoke in the house of course.”

Charlotte was unsure how to respond. He seemed to want to offend her but also not too much.  
He straightened up suddenly and flicked the rest of his cigarette into the gutter. 

“You don’t seem like the kind of woman who’s nervous walking home alone in the dark, so I won’t offer to escort you. I’ll say goodnight now, Dr Heywood. Enjoy your stay in Sanditon.”

“As I said before, you can call me Charlotte, and I’m fine. Nice to meet you and safe trip back to London tomorrow.” She said somewhat coldly. 

“Good night then…Charlotte.” And with that he turned and walked slowly back towards the house.

“What the hell was that?” Charlotte thought, as she watched his back walking away from her before turning in the direction of home. She had never met anyone so contrary on first acquaintance. “He probably thinks it makes him mysterious and interesting” she thought indignantly as she let herself in and climbed the stairs to her flat. “I refuse to think about it anymore.” 

Sidney walked slowly back to the house, turning once to watch her disappear in the direction of her flat. He was tired of course, but he had actually left the dinner early because he felt himself watching her a little too much during the course of the evening and felt it best to go. Normally he would have ignored the call and rung back later, but he had taken it as an excuse to escape. It was a woman he had been seeing casually for a few weeks, nothing exciting, but she was pleasant, intelligent company and a nice date for events. They were both very busy with work and didn’t see each other often enough for him to get itchy feet as he had done a few times before. He had always tried to be honest with the women he got involved with, but more recently there had been a few difficult entanglements, and he wanted to avoid anything complicated. Elise was certainly not complicated, on the contrary she was almost preternaturally poised, and in many ways it was relief for him. The last thing he wanted was drama or emotions running too high. He had had enough of that when he was younger with Eliza. But then here was Charlotte, stirring something deeply buried in him, disturbing his thoughts with her wild hair and her cheeks and lips rose red from wine. He shrugged the strange feeling off. She was good looking that was all, and quite different from most of the women in his sphere, it was natural that he would be drawn to her a bit. But in any case, Charlotte Heywood was certainly not the kind of women he could or should ever be involved with, and he quickly put her out of his mind.


	4. The Crowne

Charlotte thought she saw Sidney early the next morning when she went for her early morning run – he was running too, and along the cliff and beach route that she had plotted out the day before, so she quickly changed tack and took a different, less interesting route to avoid bumping into him. Last night had been too weird, and it had taken up too much of her head space before she went to bed. She didn’t want to repeat the experience. Somewhere in her heart she thought that maybe she was vulnerable. There was no regret or remorse for her breakup with John, she barely even missed him, but it surely couldn’t be that easy to brush aside a two-year relationship with a good man even if she had known almost a year in that it probably was more convenient than right. She also couldn’t afford to get distracted by a good-looking, mysterious guy who liked to play mind games at the moment – she wasn’t a 19-year old undergraduate anymore, after all! Charlotte’s determination to avoid Sidney even involved timing her arrival at Trafalgar House by glancing at the London train timetable posted in the kitchen of her flat, and she was pleased to have missed him when she turned up later that afternoon to start her work. 

In the weeks that followed, Charlotte’s world settled into a routine of Trafalgar House in the morning, writing in the afternoon, and a standing invitation to Sunday lunch with Tom and Marion and their kids. She had developed a real affection for the family, particularly the children and sometimes watched the kids in the evening so that Tom and Marion could go out alone. She had also made huge progress with her book and seeing that Tom was a bit hopeless about organization, she even created a rudimentary catalogue of the documents that she consulted. 

Like his namesake, the original Tom Parker had clearly been a prolific ideas man. His papers were energetic and creative but rarely followed any set plan and he seemed to take up concepts with enthusiasm only to drop them abruptly. It was clear that many of his schemes had been unrealistic: there was a chinoiserie folly, a racecourse, and a theatre, none of which had gained any traction. It was also clear that order had been imposed on the papers at some point, but that order had only lasted for a number of months in 1819 and quickly disintegrated after the midsummer fire in the same year. 

Everything Sidney had mentioned about his own namesake was there, including the fact that after Elizabeth Campion's death he all but disappeared from the records, beyond a few casual references, though it seems that Elizabeth's investment had remained in Sanditon, and that influx of cash at a crucial moment had solidified all the subsequent success of the venture even up to the present day. There was unfortunately very little to clarify what the first Sidney Parker had done in Antigua before his marriage, and Charlotte was beginning to give up any hope that she would be able to find out. 

After only a few days of focused study, Charlotte had easily filled out the missing information for her book, but she could not quite put the Parker papers aside and began taking more and more notes for a side project that quickly looked like it would become a second book. To say that her work was going well would have been an understatement. 

Her social life had also picked up quite a bit: Marion had kindly taken the trouble to introduce her to the younger branch of the Denhams of Denham House. The house and estate lay just outside Sanditon and was now a luxury five-star hotel/club and spa run by Esther Denham and, to a much lesser extent, by her brother Edward Denham. They were the niece and nephew of the current Lady Anne Denham, an imperious and often impertinent older great lady who lived in sort of dower house on the grounds with her private secretary Clara Brereton. Between them the Denhams and the Parkers had run Sanditon and dominated it’s social and financial world for generations, and indeed it appeared that they still did. At a time when most people with their level of investment portfolio might have cashed in their chips and moved to London, the Denhams and the Parkers seemed unusually loyal to Sanditon and more than happy to remain in a place that they could easily afford to leave behind at any time.

They had stuck it out through the darkest days of the 70s, 80s, and 90s and were happy to have contributed to keeping the place afloat now that things were starting to look brighter. The Parker and Denham property trusts were the neighbourhood’s largest employers and between them they owned or had once owned virtually every stick in the area. The great house itself was everything a classic country estate should be; it would have made a great National Trust property, but the Denhams had instead chosen to retain complete control of it by transforming it into a private club and hotel that was known for its understated luxury, attracting wealthy movie stars, sports stars, oligarchs and other people from around the world who wanted to remain under the radar. 

Esther Denham, who managed the hotel and oversaw every detail with an eagle eye, was an unusual pre-Raphaelite beauty with flaming red hair and alabaster skin. Her personality, at first glance, was standoffish and reserved, but with every passing day Charlotte found herself warming to Esther’s honest and unflinching view of things – they were becoming great friends. Esther’s brother Edward was a different story entirely – he was the stereotypical public-school boy: floppy haired, charming and often fun, but utterly unreliable, insincere, and positively oozing entitlement without ever displaying a modicum of the intelligence or drive to deserve or run his birthright as his sister did. He had inherited the baronetcy, but any cash he might have in the future was entirely within the gift of his aunt, and securing this future financial independence appeared to be his main focus. Though he initially flirted somewhat half-heartedly with Charlotte, he was clearly in thrall to Lady Denham’s beautiful private secretary, Clara Brereton, whose attempts to insinuate him into his aunt’s favour for her own gain and also to undermine Esther in her Aunt’s eyes were fairly obvious to Charlotte. What was also obvious to Charlotte was that Esther spent far too much time excusing and rescuing her ridiculous brother financially and otherwise and neglected her own emotional needs. There was no shortage of eligible and interested men approaching her, but Esther was never interested in more than a one-night stand. Charlotte was beginning to suspect though that it was fear more than anything that held Esther back from any ties that might lead to love or a relationship. She felt things quite deeply but took great care to hide this behind a cold and cynical façade. 

Charlotte’s circle had also recently expanded to include Tom and Sidney’s younger siblings Diana, a charming but nervous glassblower, and her dynamic younger brother Arthur, an illustrator. They had both come up from London for the summer and were staying in the apartment they jointly owned near to Trafalgar House. Diana was anxious and flighty, but loveable; her interest in health and wellness bordered on the obsessive and meant that she rarely came out in the evenings. Her glass sculptures were beautiful and delicate works of art, influenced by her time apprenticing in Venice and later with Dale Chihuly, but her real passion was her health: she did yoga for 90 minutes every morning, ate “clean,” did breathing exercises, and meditated religiously. She had the tincture and vitamin regime of an 80-year-old and went to bed at 9pm every night without fail according to the dictates of her Ayurvedic dosha. 

Diana often tried to push her obsessions onto her brother Arthur who sometimes humoured her out of affection, but Arthur was a completely different kettle of fish. The youngest of the Parkers, he made no secret of his endless pursuit of fun and pleasure. He was a talented illustrator, but thanks to his comfortable trust fund income, he did not feel the need to push or hustle as other young freelancers of his age might have done. He was joyous to the point of being boisterous but was always the life of the party and well-loved wherever he went. He was also remarkably sensitive and kind. Charlotte soon became fast friends with him, and she often wondered how he could be so different from his brothers. 

Her weekends usually consisted of Friday and Saturday night drinks out at the pub or around town with Esther, Arthur and usually also Edward and Clara. Lately Esther had also introduced to their circle Ben DuPre, a celebrated young architect who was frequently up from London to oversee the preliminary stages of work on an annex at the hotel that was Esther’s newest project. Ben, in fact, was a direct descendant of the famous James Stringer, which made his work in Sanditon even more apt. Charlotte laughed when she made the connection.

“My God - Sanditon is really in everyone’s blood isn’t it! You guys can’t get away from this place!”  
Though she laughed about it, even Charlotte was beginning to see the appeal. What she had expected to be a few quiet months of lonely study and writing in the sticks was quickly turning into probably one of the best summers she’d had in years. 

This was the weekend of the annual series of events for the Parker Trust that they all referred to as the "Investors' weekend." It always opened with a black-tie event on Friday evening followed by a lecture and a luncheon for the board of trustees and any potential investors on the Saturday. Tom had invited Charlotte and had also asked her to give the lecture on Saturday morning. She had agreed without hesitation – it was the least she could do for him after all of his and Marion’s generosity to her. On the Thursday night before the party Charlotte found herself at the Crowne with Esther, Ben, Arthur, Edward, and Clara, nursing a few pints and talking over what horrors of stuffiness they could all expect the next evening. 

“It’s actually not that bad once the boring people leave. Last year we had a proper laugh – things can get pretty raucous.” Said Arthur.

“Do you remember the year Sidney brought out a karaoke machine he’d found in the storeroom?” Edward laughed loudly at the memory. 

“Oh my god. He was so bad! Was that the year where he was so out of his head that he punched Joshua Thorpe, vomited behind the bar, and still managed to go home with two of the waitresses.”

Esther smiled tightly, but Charlotte noticed that Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“I think those were two different years. Also, Joshua Thorpe is a dickhead – we all know that – someone needed to put him in his place. Anyhow, Sidney was going through some things around that time. He wasn't really himself.” He said loyally. Charlotte was intrigued but she didn’t dare ask any questions.

“Well that sounds like you every year, Edward,” said Esther sharply. “Don’t make an ass of yourself before Aunt leaves – you know how she gets.” 

“Is Georgiana coming, Arthur?” Esther asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, she’s coming down tomorrow afternoon, and I think she’s bringing some friends from uni as well for the night. I can’t wait to see her. We always have such a brilliant time together. But Sidney says she’s still pretty upset with him for not letting her go to Lagos this summer. I think she really wanted to reconnect with some of her relatives this year.”

Charlotte interrupted. “Sorry, who’s Georgiana?” 

Arthur smiled, “Oh right, you wouldn’t know her – Georgiana Adeyemi, she’s Sidney’s ward. Her parents came here from Nigeria when she was 15 – her family are oil billionaires. Sidney met the Adeyemis when he was living in Lagos, and when they moved over to London with their daughter a few years later they asked him to help them acquire pieces for their collection. The art of the West African Kingdoms is one of his passions outside of contemporary art. He was really instrumental in lobbying the British Museum to repatriate the Benin bronzes in their collections last year. Have you heard of the collection?” 

Charlotte could barely conceal her surprise. She had not expected that of Sidney Parker, she had him pegged as a typical posh rich guy whose interests went no further than how much money he could make from some hot young artist and which gallerina he would pull on the weekend. 

“Of course I know it! The Adeyemi collection is probably the biggest collection of West African art in the world. It’s huge, I think. I heard they have some of the most valuable Benin bronzes outside of a museum and also a huge collection of contemporary artists from all over the continent. Wow.” she said.

Arthur continued proudly, “Yeah. He was their first advisor and helped them build that collection, and now he’s on the board and really involved with the gallery space they're building with David Adjaye. He’s also actually considered an expert on repatriation and decolonisation in the art world.” Charlotte could hardly believe what she was hearing. Arthur went on more seriously,

“Anyhow, Aliko and Eloho died in a car accident on holiday about seven years ago, you might have read about it in the news – it was really awful for Georgie as you can imagine, and hardly less so for Sid, he was really close to them, they treated him like family. It turns out they had named Sidney as one of Georgie’s guardians. Her uncle and aunt are Sidney’s co-guardians but they live in Lagos, and since Georgie wanted to stay at school and attend uni here, Sidney’s mostly been in charge of everything to do with her and will be until she turns 25 in two years and comes into the rest of her money. Georgie was only a few years below me at Bedales and now she’s doing an MA in Art History at Leeds.”

“The long and the short of it, Charlotte, is that Georgiana is worth just over a quarter of a billion dollars.” Said Edward crassly. Everyone grimaced.

“She’s an actual person, Edward! Not just a pound sign! And she’s also been through hell.” Esther remonstrated. 

There was a solemn pause before everyone went back to regular chatter, and Charlotte took a moment to contemplate what she had just learned about Sidney. She could not imagine that this was the same man she had met a few weeks ago. Her respect for him had grown somewhat and she wondered if she had perhaps judged him rather hastily. He sounded far more interesting than she originally thought. She was startled from these thoughts by Ben’s nudging her and asking if she wanted to get another drink. She walked with him towards the bar, ignoring Esther’s significant smile and eyebrow waggle. Her head was still reeling from what she had just heard, and she realised that she had made some pretty broad assumptions about someone she didn’t actually know at all. 

“What are you drinking, Charlotte?” Ben’s voice brought her to earth again and they took their pints outside to get some fresh air. Not for the first time was she grateful for the lovely, funny, gentle company of Ben DuPre. She had to admit that he been a large part of the improvement in her social life over the last few weeks in Sanditon. They talked frequently and he was very interested in her project and her insights about the architectural history of the town. He took every opportunity to pick her brain so that he could build up some ideas for his design of the new structure at Denham House. He seemed to like being around her and was possibly interested in something more – if she was honest with herself Charlotte knew he was interested in more, but she didn’t want to think about it at the moment. Right now, it was just nice to have attention from a gorgeous, intelligent, gentle man, whom she was comfortable around and could have a laugh with. Who knows where it might go, but for now she wanted it to remain strictly platonic. 

The Crowne was almost directly across from Trafalgar House and as Charlotte and Ben sat on the step chatting and laughing, a black special edition bespoke Tesla turned silently around the corner and stopped in front of the house. Charlotte looked over curiously. She saw Sidney Parker climb out of the car with a stunningly beautiful and exquisitely dressed woman.

Sidney reached into the back of the car to grab their bags while his companion checked her phone by the door. He leaned into the open passenger window and said to the driver:

“Thanks for the lift, Babbers. You know your way to the hotel from here, right? Crowe’s texted – he has a drink waiting for you at the bar. Have a good night. See you tomorrow morning.” 

Sidney stood up and watched his friend’s car pull away. Glancing across the street he caught sight of Charlotte chatting and laughing cosily with a handsome young man outside the pub. She still looked like a graduate student, he thought rather admiringly, in her Katherine Hepburn-esque wide leg trousers, white converse high tops, and leather biker jacket - her hair was down and wild again and she looked happy. Charlotte looked up suddenly and caught his eye, and he acknowledged her with a nod, which she returned. Then he and his companion turned and walked into Trafalgar House together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The British Museum has not repatriated the Benin bronzes or anything else, but this is an alternate universe and a perfect world.


	5. The Investors' Weekend Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the encouraging comments so far. I have plotted this story out to the end and will try to post regularly, time permitting. Enjoy this second chapter of the day.

Charlotte had been given a room at the hotel for the weekend as a thank you for agreeing to give the lecture, and Esther made sure it was one of the suites overlooking the front gardens and beyond to the sea. Staying at the hotel had the added benefit of convenience as, in addition to the lecture and luncheon tomorrow, she would also be attending the black-tie event this evening. Everything would be held at the hotel and she felt relieved that she had a quiet base here to collect her notes and thoughts before her talk. 

Charlotte had done her own hair, which she had pulled back into a messy bun, and her own make up. She had also put on the one piece of important jewellery she did have: a pair of heavy gold, almost shoulder dusting Regency earrings that her grandmother Heywood had given her as the eldest female grandchild. According to family tradition the earrings always went to the eldest child named Charlotte in the family, but other than the fact that Charlotte was a family name, no one could really remember why. She rarely had an occasion to wear them, but this was certainly it. Though she did have an evening gown that she had worn to various college events at Cambridge, it was buried in one of the hastily packed boxes she had left at her supervisor’s house when John has asked her to move out. Tonight she had borrowed something from Esther, who had a closet of these kinds of things for work events. It was not the kind of dress she would have chosen for herself, but she had to admit that it looked really good on her. Esther’s style was a bit sexier than her own, so Charlotte had worried a bit when Esther had looked her up and down and pulled this gown out. Initially Charlotte balked at the completely open back, but Esther had told her not to be so prudish and had insisted that she try it. She was right. It was simple and elegant, and despite Charlotte’s initial reservations it suited both her figure and her personal taste, showing quite a lot of her smooth tan skin, but also managing to leave a lot to the imagination and more importantly, to keep her from feeling uncomfortable. The dress was a deep Bordeaux red halter neck dress in a figure skimming bias cut that draped beautifully across her body without ever looking tight, and her shoulders and her back were completely bare. There was a knock at her door, and Charlotte took one quick appraising glance back at herself in the mirror before opening it. 

“Oh My God, Charlotte! You look smashing! I knew that was the right dress for you,” cried Esther as she came through the door and grabbed her friend around the waist, kissing her on the cheek. 

“Ben is going to die when he sees you!” 

“Seriously, don’t! We’re just friends and I want to keep it that way – I don’t need any complicated emotions at the moment. John and I just broke up two months ago.”

“Whatever, Charlotte. From what you’ve told me – you broke up with him in your head long before that. Time to get back in action, stop burying your nose in those old dusty papers and get some sex! And if you don’t get some sex in that dress then I have failed in my duty as your friend.”

“Jesus, Esther!” Charlotte shook her head laughing. “Those dusty papers are actually my job, but just because I like them doesn’t mean I am not interested in sex too. I’ll get on Tinder again if things get bad, but right now I just need some time. I don’t want to get entangled. I need to focus.” 

“Well don’t wait too long. I would hate for you to become a cliché. Come on darling, let’s move – I’ve checked everything is in order downstairs, but Aunt is already being a bit of pain this evening so I slipped upstairs to bring you down and save me.”

“By the way, you look extraordinary Esther. I mean wow!”

Esther put on a demure, “what this old thing” face and twirled for her friend. She was wearing an emerald green 1930s style gown, that brought out her hair and skin. It was almost entirely backless too except for a pair of terribly skinny straps that looked like they could easily snap with the lightest touch. Her red hair was pulled back in a loose wavy low chignon. She looked like she had floated out of a cloud.

“What sort of underwear do you even wear under a dress like that?”

Esther laughed!

“None at all!” she said with a cheeky eyebrow waggle.

They left Charlotte’s room together chatting and laughing down the hallway and neither noticed a very handsome, rather rugged looking man in a dinner jacket standing in the hallway with his phone glued to his face staring after them. George Babington had been leaving his hotel room to head downstairs to meet his friends in the bar when his phone rang. He knew he had to take the call as they were in the midst of negotiating the sale of an important work by one their more difficult artists to a big collector. He was just extracting himself from the conversation when he saw her coming out of the room down the hall with a friend, an absolute vision of flaming red hair wearing a green dress. His jaw hung open for a minute as he watched her disappear around the corner and he suddenly realised that he had missed the last few seconds of the collector’s chatter. Not that it mattered, he surely wasn’t saying anything important, but it was Babington’s job to make him feel listened to and he quickly pulled it together, said something positive about the process and reassured the man that he would be in touch again on Monday.

Since his divorce four years ago, Babington had been around the block more than a few times, but like his business partner, Sidney, he had a reputation that he was proud of for generally not being a slimeball. It was sad that for the men in his line of work that was considered an anomaly, but he and Sidney had been very frank with each other, with their co-founder Susan Worcester, and with their employees and artists that their three galleries were going to be paragons of equal opportunity, equal pay, diversity, and entirely free from the toxic masculinity or bro-fratboy attitudes that dogged other galleries of their calibre. As a result, they emerged from the inevitable #MeToo fallout in the art world smelling of roses, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for improvement and they were constantly combing through their hiring and recruitment processes with Susan and their COO, Otis Molyneaux, to find ways do better. 

Babington shared custody of his five-year-old young daughter with his ex-wife and considered his time with her to be sacrosanct. But none of this meant that he was immune to the charms of women. In fact, he was one of those men that really loved women, appreciated them, admired them and usually had an instant and sensitive rapport with them. His fleeting relationships were open, honest, and respectful and always ended amicably and without any bad blood, but they always ended and that was the rub: Babington was happier in a relationship; he always had been and it was what he really wanted, butt here had been no one really serious since his ex. He had a formidable knowledge of contemporary art, was an absolute bulldog in business and a brilliant salesman who also fought tooth and nail for his artists, but he was a puppy dog when he fell in love. Though he was becoming rather prone to the odd friendly hook-up – never as many as he could have had or people thought he had – he usually preferred to get to know a woman first.

***

Charlotte and Esther came down the steps to the hallway where the apéritifs were being served, but since Esther was quickly drawn into making sure that everything ran smoothly Charlotte was grateful when Ben came up to her and handed her a champagne glass, whispering conspiratorially: 

“Thank god you arrived. Lady Denham has been hawking me around to the investors to talk about the designs, and I was just stuck in the most awful conversation with some old aristo over there who seems to think it should be a replica of the main house! He referred me to the Prince of Wales for god’s sake! That guy’s going to love your history lecture tomorrow!” 

Charlotte laughed into her drink and hit him lightly on the shoulder with the back of her hand. Ben looked at her in a friendly and appraising fashion.

“You look great, Charlotte.” He said earnestly “...scrub up well.”

“Not so bad yourself Ben. A dinner jacket suits you!” 

They were soon joined by Arthur and Diana and the four of them were chatting animatedly when dinner was called. 

They moved into the ballroom and Charlotte caught sight of Sidney and his stunning date almost immediately – he wore his dinner jacket as easily as if he had been born in it, and with his companion who shimmered like an elegant, understated mermaid they made a striking pair, chatting easily with a group of people from Sidney’s gallery and mingling discreetly amongst the trust bigwigs. Tom Parker’s exuberant voice could be heard above the chatter often, talking endlessly about Sanditon’s merits and his plans for the town. If there was one thing he wasn’t, it was subtle, and Charlotte also noticed that Sidney or Marion often swooped in to intervene before he could put investors off entirely with his wild notions or before he could make a promise that could not be kept. 

Edward and Clara were entirely taken up with attending to Lady Denham, who was holding court with a circle of dignified older members of the board of trustees. Charlotte’s table included Arthur, Diana, Edward, Clara, Ben, Esther, and Georgiana – who had not turned up. The dinner was excellent, but they had to sit through Lady Denham’s welcome, and long speeches by Tom as well as a few other members of the board. Between courses, Clara and Edward were called away to attend to Lady Denham again. Esther was almost never at her seat, as she was constantly needed to attend to something or to check that everything was going smoothly. Thank god Arthur made sure the wine kept coming with his discreet nods to the waiter, Charlotte thought, but she also noticed that the more he drank the louder and more boisterous he became, while Diana became more and more agitated about what the food and the late hour was going to do to her tomorrow. Charlotte and Ben tried their best to distract and calm them, but they seemed to be oblivious, chattering wildly until suddenly Charlotte felt someone take Georgiana’s empty seat beside her and heard Sidney greet his siblings affectionately. Unaccountably, her heart started to pound in her chest. 

“Hey guys.” She heard him say gently, leaning forward to kiss Diana on the cheek; like magic they seemed to quiet a little. They clearly adored him.

“How are you doing? Sorry I haven’t had a chance to come by and chat properly yet – our table is all boring work and trust talk. Di, when you get a chance, I think Marion had something she wanted to ask you about an article she read on supernutrients for kids – she tried to ask me, but I was no use. I don’t really know anything about it.” 

Diana turned around eagerly to find Marion in the room, and spotting her almost immediately excused herself. Charlotte watched Sidney smile to himself as she hurried off before turning his attention to Arthur.<

“Where’s Georgie tonight Sidney, I thought she would be here.” Arthur said rather plaintively.

“Don’t worry Arthur, she’s coming later for the after party. I believe her words to me this afternoon were that ‘she wouldn't be caught dead at this boring dinner,’ but I also think she’s punishing me a bit for insisting she not go away this summer. Oh and before I forget, Arthur, I meant to ask if you could have a word with the DJ for later – he’s not the usual guy and I am worried that he doesn’t know that the music starts after 10:30 when the band packs up. If he starts his set too soon it will scare away the likes of Robert Knereford and Josephine Danement and we need them on side tonight for next week’s board meeting.”

Arthur nodded and smiled enthusiastically. Having settled his siblings, Sidney now turned to Charlotte. Looking straight into her eyes, he said

“Hi Charlotte. I am looking forward to your lecture tomorrow.”

“Oh. Yes. Thanks.” She averted her eyes under his serious gaze, suddenly feeling like a nervous teenager. “I hope the board and your investors will find it interesting.”

“I am sure they will.” He looked up at Ben and introduced himself reaching his arm across Charlotte and accidentally brushing her bare shoulder in the process. The two fell easily into conversation about the annex project and about some of Ben’s other recent projects which Sidney seemed to know a lot about. Sidney seemed utter engrossed in Ben’s plans for the design.

Charlotte was suddenly hyper aware of Sidney’s nearness, of his warmth and his vaguely comforting smell, and she felt somehow surrounded and overpowered by it. She stood up and excused herself, noticing in the meantime that he had flung his arm across the back of her chair and was also leaning in front of her to talk to Ben. He moved it now to let her pass, accidentally brushing the skirts of her dress in the process and smiled at her as she left before turning his full attention back to Ben.

Dinner had ended and people were now milling about, socialising. The older guests were starting to head home or to their hotel rooms and the younger people were starting to get ready for the real party to begin. Esther had just seen her Aunt to her car and now looked noticeably more relaxed. After seeing off another elderly guest, she turned, and finding Charlotte grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards the bar.  
“Come on, I need a drink. A real one.”

Sidney had seen Charlotte the moment she came down the stairs with Esther. She looked incredible, and he couldn’t believe that she could so easily transform from the – honestly adorable – “nerdy chic” grad student look he had seen last night to total sophisticated knock-out tonight. He was fascinated by her various transformations, and all through the aperitif hour and dinner his eyes settled on her in the crowd. He noted that she spent most of the night chatting with the same handsome man he had seen her with outside the Crowne, but he couldn’t tell if they were together, rather not if he had to guess. The man was clearly admiring but she seemed no more than friendly with him, perhaps a touch flirtatious but not enough to be too encouraging. That somehow relieved him, though he couldn’t say why. 

His own table was entirely made up of work colleagues. His partners George Babington, Susan Worcester and her wife Alice, their COO Otis Molyneux, and Angela de Castan, director of their New York gallery. There was also of course his date Elise, and one of his oldest friends from school Francis Crowe, an award-winning war correspondent for the BBC who was just recently back from Syria and trying to readjust to 'civilian' life with the help of rather a lot of alcohol. Babington and Crowe were staying for the entire weekend, but the others planned to go home tomorrow morning after conducting a bit of business with Sidney in Sanditon. He had invited Elise to the event long ago. As a professional fundraiser, she was great in these kinds of situations but in a way their relationship, if he could even call it that, had become more about working well together socially than anything else. She was incredibly poised and professional and he liked her a lot, but there was not much more between them, and he knew it was time to call time on it. He had known that for a while really, and probably she did too, but for some reason tonight it seemed a matter of urgency to end things as soon as possible. 

He went to Charlotte’s table to talk to his siblings who he could see were becoming agitated. It had always been his job to reassure and calm them when they got over excited and he did it without even realising anymore. He knew instinctively what to say and that even his presence would be calming enough. If he could give them something to do as a distraction so they felt a part of things, so much the better, but it wasn’t the only reason he came over. He wanted a closer look at her. He wanted to say hello, be friendly and not so brusque as he had been when they first met at Trafalgar House, but somehow he couldn’t really find a way to engage her in his conversation with Ben. She left the table and he ended up chatting at length with Ben DuPre, whose work he’d heard a lot about and admired.

“Sid, Sid, Sid” Babbers grabbed his arm and pulled him abruptly away from his conversation. Sidney made his apologies to Ben and hoped they could talk further about his idea again tomorrow, then turned his attention towards Babington.

“Who is that woman in the green dress? I saw her in the hall near my room with her friend before and I nearly fainted.” Sidney laughed “What? Esther? Don’t tell me you haven’t met her before. How many of these parties have you been to and you never noticed her?”

“This party always coincided with my father’s annual birthday celebration, remember? I came once after your break-up with She Who Shall Not Be Named, and you know how that night ended. And the only other time I was here was with Josie when we were married, so not really conducive to meeting a glorious redheaded angel.”

“I don’t think you’ll find her so angelic Babbers, but I’ll introduce you if you like. Just don’t get your hopes up. Many better men than you have broken their ships on the rocks of Esther Denham!”

The band started at 9:30 and played for an hour, generally the kind of big band tunes that were conducive to conversation and that any of the straggling older people might enjoy. It had always been that way at these parties and the tradition was kept, but by 10:30 the “real” party music started and went ‘til 2am or longer depending on how wild things got. The younger generation usually arrived for this part of the evening and Arthur was always the last to go home. Sidney could see that Elise had already been asked to dance and was chatting politely with Sir John Winthrop from the board of trustees, and he began to formulate a plan in his head as he and Babington approached Esther and Charlotte at the bar.

“Esther, Charlotte, may I introduce my business partner and oldest friend George Babington. George this is Charlotte Heywood. Charlotte's an architectural historian working here for the summer. And Esther Denham, who is CEO and general manager of this place and does a damn good job! Esther, George is keen to meet the woman responsible for making the magic happen.”

Esther immediately assumed a standoffish look, and barely glancing at George she turned back towards the bar.

“Well it’s a lot less about magic and a lot more about hard work and not getting distracted.”

“No time for play then?” said Babington flirtatiously, smiling at the side of her face innocently. 

Charlotte raised her eyebrows and glanced up at Sidney, surprised, who looked back at her and shrugged his shoulders slightly as if to say, “I warned him!”

Esther turned slowly away from the bar to face Babington head on. She fixed him with a cold stare and almost disdainfully replied.

“It depends on who wants to play.”

Babington’s face broke out in a delighted and rather charming smile. It provided a very strong contract to Esther’s impassivity, but he was not daunted and without missing a beat and without a shred of fear he held out his hand and said.

“Care to dance, Esther?” She paused a moment, clearly sizing him up, before taking his hand and allowing him to lead her out to the dance floor.

Charlotte, looking on incredulously, could not contain an amused “Phew! That was … I don’t know what that was! Your friend knows what he’s getting into right?” 

Sidney chuckled, “Babbers will be all right. He can take care of himself.” 

He looked down to Charlotte at his side, and said as casually as he could “Would you like to dance?” 

Charlotte was startled and suddenly quite nervous. She looked out at the floor and saw that his date was already dancing. Realising that he was probably just being polite and well-mannered she agreed and let him lead her to the dance floor. Before she could think about what was happening, she felt him take her firmly in his arms and move her off into the throng of dancers. It was nice she thought; he danced well. She felt one of his hands warm and smooth on her bare back and the other clasping hers, and the smell of him filled her nostrils and threatened to overwhelm her again. There was a brief silence and he didn’t look at her, focusing instead on glancing distractedly at the other dancers and then at a spot behind her shoulder. They then spoke a bit about Sanditon and her work in the archives, about her talk the next day and what her plans were for the coming months. There was another pause, and she ventured, 

“This evening seems to have been a success. Tom will be pleased.”

“Yes, I hope so. Tom has tabled an important vote for the board next week, and I think there’s an agreement – now.”

“I’m sure that is in no small part due to your efforts tonight.” She said with a wry smile. Remembering what she had heard about him from Arthur at the pub the night before, she added “But do you care about such things?”

He looked down at her now curiously, their eyes meeting briefly.

“Yes. For my brother’s sake, I do.”

The song ended, and with it their short dance. They stood together for a moment not knowing what to say next, and at that moment a group of fashionable young women entered the room.

“Ah,” said Sidney. “That’s Georgiana with her friends, I had better say hello. Thank you for the dance, Charlotte. Excuse me.” 

Sidney walked over and kissed Georgiana lightly on both cheeks. She was had long slim, glossy legs and arms, that were shown off by the kind of extraordinarily short and expensive evening dress that only the very young, very beautiful, and very rich can pull off. Her plaits were arranged artfully in one long twist that fell long down her smooth bare back. Her two friends the Hons. Phillida and Julia Beaufort were similarly dressed but far less striking, and they faded into insignificance beside her. Georgiana carried herself with the poise of someone far older than her 23 years and someone who knew that all eyes were often on her. And indeed, Charlotte’s eyes were continually drawn to Georgiana who greeted Arthur with a hug and a squeal of delight then ran off with him and her friends to do shots at the bar. The music soon changed, and the room darkened – the last of the older generation had already gone home and Tom and Marion were preparing to leave too, with Diana not far behind them. As the music changed, Georgie and her friends were already hitting the dance floor, and a few other well-heeled 19- to 23-year-olds that they all seemed to know from school or from other social events joined in too. As ever, Arthur was prominent in the mix, dancing, laughing, drinking and already flirting hard with a beautiful young man whom he seemed to know quite intimately already. Confronted with all these youthful pheromones made Charlotte a touch nostalgic. Normally, she loved to dance – really loved it. She had been known to hit the clubs hard, especially in her carefree teenage and undergraduate years, and a sweaty throng of clubbers, or the dance floor late night at a wedding or party when the music got really good was her spiritual home, but tonight she suddenly felt tired and deflated. 

She wasn’t nervous about her lecture the next day, it would be nothing compared to presenting original work for scrutiny at a conference of peers, but somehow she felt that she really wanted to shine. She scanned the crowd of people, not really sure who she was looking for, and felt disappointed and lonely for no reason in particular. With half a mind to go for a walk she wandered off toward the small second cloak room to borrow one of the jackets she knew Esther left there if needed for the “jacket required” restaurant, but she quickly and quietly retreated when she saw that Edward had pinned Clara to the wall in there and was already half way up her dress.

She came back to the ball room, picked up her drink again and wandered out through the open garden doors into the cool night. She just wanted to hear the sea. 

Sidney was there at the corner of the house leaning alone against the wall having a smoke and looking out in the direction of the sea. He could not see it, but he could smell it and hear it far away in the distance and it comforted and calmed him as it always had done. The scent of Charlotte and the feel of her smooth, soft skin under his hand had been unbelievably invigorating, and when he was dancing with her the thought that it would be nice to kiss her shoulder had inadvertently come into his head. He needed a moment alone to collect his thoughts. Elise was being taken care of by Crowe and his colleagues, but he knew they would have to make an exit soon and then he would have to tell her that their “relationship” wasn’t going anywhere. If nothing else, these disturbing thoughts about Charlotte had made that plain to him. He had made it clear from the beginning, as he always did, that he wasn’t interested in anything serious, and he had a feeling that Elise would agree that their arrangement had run its course; however, a few other women had recently surprised him with their anger and tears when he tried to end things and it made him nervous. He knew he was cut off and dispassionate. He hadn’t got upset or angry over anything for almost ten years, and his lack of emotion made him a terrible relationship proposition for any flesh and blood woman. He felt he was pretty honest with himself about it and with the women he got involved with, but sometimes they ended up wanted more than he was able to give no matter what they said at the beginning. It saddened and deflated him to think that there was a part of himself that he couldn’t reach anymore no matter how hard he tried or how much he a wanted to. 

He saw Charlotte first as she came out into the garden and he watched her stroll along the gravel in his direction, apparently unaware that he was there. She had her arms wrapped around herself as protection from the cool sea breeze that was lifting up over the cliffs. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realised that there was a person standing there and that it was Sidney.

“Oh, sorry to disturb you. I didn’t see you there” she muttered, turning to move in a different direction.

“Not a problem. You’ve just caught me having a smoke again,” he said, and to prevent her from walking away, “enjoying yourself?”

She stopped. 

“Thanks, yes. I am starting to think about my lecture for tomorrow though. I shouldn’t drink too many of these, for instance.” She lifted her half empty glass and put it down on a garden table nearby.

“Is that all you're thinking about?” he asked suddenly, turning towards her with a slightly seductive smile and leaning his back against the wall to face her.

She smiled. “Well no, I suppose I am also thinking about how hard it is to make people out.”

“Anyone in particular provoke that thought?”

She was grateful that he could not see her blush in the darkness, because of course she had been thinking of him. She tried to brush it off with a bit of obfuscation.

“Oh people in general. I suppose. I like to amuse myself by sometimes observing and trying to make conclusions. But of course, it’s hard to form a reliable judgement, people can be so difficult to interpret or maybe they don’t always conform to my first impressions or assumptions.”

“Hmm.” He said softly, nodding and taking a slow drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out to the side. “And what have you observed about me upon our short acquaintance?”

Charlotte shuffled her weight in her heels uncomfortably. He had detected something there and was trying to pin her down with his forthrightness. She paused for half a beat to think what might be safe to say.

“I think that you might be the sensible Parker.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?” he said, amused that this was her response to his slightly flirtatious question. He had expected a more bantering reply, and he wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or not that she found him sensible. He was intrigued, but also somehow dreaded what was coming.

“Well, of course I haven’t known any of you very long but it seems to me that although Arthur is a darling, he’s also quite overenthusiastic in his pursuit of pleasure, he’s such a talented illustrator but every ounce of his effort seems to go into socialising, partying, and drinking and never into his work; and for Diana it’s the same, but her obsession with her health is really concerning; and Tom, well sometimes it seems that his passion for Sanditon is all consuming too. Marion never complains, but I am sure that she sometimes wishes that she and the children could have a bit more of his time and attention. And you seem to have to spend a lot of your time managing and caring for them all and trying to save them from themselves.” 

She stopped nervously, realising that she had probably said more than she intended and noticing that Sidney had gone menacingly silent and had put out his cigarette on the wall.

“Wow.” He said quietly with an undertone of fury. “You’ve really made a complete study of us, haven’t you? Barely a month here and it seems like we’ll be forming a case study in your next book. It must make you feel pretty powerful, Dr Heywood?”

“Come on, that’s not fair! I didn’t mean it that way. You asked me, and I…”

“Yes, I did ask. My bad,” he said, his voice rising slightly with a level of anger that he hadn’t felt in a while. “But you might want to stop and think for a minute that these are people who’ve invited you into their home, into their lives, and into their histories. We’re not just characters in a book or an archive to be dissected, interpreted, and used for your amusement or to further your career. We’re all trying to make our mark on the world, and in some small way to make it better, whether it’s in a way you approve of or not. And maybe if you looked up from your notes once and a while you might learn to take part instead of just observing and judging from your ivory tower.” 

His voice was harsh and biting in the darkness. Some part of her felt angry that he had trapped her into saying something that he must know deep down was at least partially true, but she also knew that it had been foolish of her to say it, true or not. She bitterly regretted it. 

“I’m sorry I offended you. Please forgive me,” said Charlotte flatly, struggling to keep her composure.

“No, you haven’t offended me. I am the one at fault. I shouldn’t have expected so much from someone like you. Excuse me.”

She heard the crunch of gravel as he walked away. Charlotte was stunned and mortified, and the tears fell hot on her cheeks. She slipped around to the front of the hotel and hurried up the steps to her room without anyone seeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Charlotte's dress (and hair) like this famous one, but in burgundy/deep wine red
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/618893173779738141/
> 
> Charlotte's family heirloom earrings very much along these lines
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/439945457318768257/
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477820996960/
> 
> Esther's dress - also a famous inspiration
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/34762228363377112/
> 
> Georgiana in something like this
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/230457705905568247/
> 
> Sidney in a dinner jacket
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477832369799/


	6. The Investors' Weekend Part II

Charlotte woke early the next morning, and the events of the previous night came rushing back. She covered her face with her hands burying her head in her pillow and moaned: why couldn’t she just learn to keep her opinions to herself! It was 5 am and the sun was only just rising over the horizon; her lecture was in 6 hours. She couldn’t let this become a distraction, she needed to clear her head, have a good breakfast, and make sure that she nailed this talk. It was clearly important to the Parkers, and she wanted to show Sidney that she was not so ungrateful as he thought. She decided to go for an early run and slipping out of her hotel room she glanced down the hall in time to see Esther coming out of George Babington’s room in her dress from last night. 

“Why are you up so early?” she hissed, annoyed at being caught.

“Oh, good morning to you too!” said Charlotte sarcastically. “So, you managed to find time to play after all!”

Esther stopped short and grinned sheepishly at her.

“Don’t ask and I won’t tell” she said 

“I think your hair and dress tell everything there is to know,” laughed Charlotte.

“I have to get out of here before he wakes up and before any of the staff see me like this,” whispered Esther, and she padded quickly down the hall in her bare feet and slipped down the back stairs. 

“See you later!”

After a run along the beach and a long, hot shower Charlotte was starting to feel herself. She also decided that it might not go amiss if she found an opportunity to apologise to Sidney again, in retrospect she really had stepped over the line and he had every right to be upset with her. She ordered room service for her breakfast, worked a bit on her talk, then dressed. Choosing an outfit that would be appropriate for a lecture to a board of trustees and the luncheon to follow had been tricky, but she decided on the form-fitting black dress again, but this time with black heels, a few heavy bracelets, red lipstick and her hair down and sleek. An hour before her talk was due to begin, she came down to the suite of conference rooms that had once been the Hall’s library and study, to run through her power point. She soon heard voices in the hall: one was certainly Tom and she thought probably also Sidney and she decided to take her chance now before it was too late. She slipped out the door and saw Tom and Sidney standing with a group of ten or so members of the board. She knew more would be coming, as well as some potential investors and when she saw Sidney break away from the group and head down the corridor alone, she took her chance and ran after him tottering a bit on her heels.

“Sidney!” she called after him “May I have a word?”

He stopped walking and turned back to her, his face cold and impassive.

“Our conversation last night.” She began nervously “I…I expressed myself badly: I really wasn’t trying to disparage any of you or to judge you. And I can’t bear that you might think I am not grateful for everyone’s help here; Tom and Marion have been extraordinarily kind, and I owe all of you a huge debt for your generosity. You were right to check me yesterday. I over-stepped and I am really very sorry. I hope you won’t think too badly of me.”

He paused for a minute to study her sincere and vulnerable face before answering.

“Think badly or you? I don’t think of you at all. I have no interest in your approval or disapproval, Charlotte. In fact, I don’t care what you think or how you feel. I am sorry if that disappoints you, but there it is. Have I made myself clear?”

Charlotte felt as if ice water had been poured all over her. She stared at him in disbelief. What kind of person would react this way to an apology made in good faith? If he was trying to make her feel silly, which he must be doing, he had failed entirely. What she felt was no longer remorse or embarrassment, it was pure un-distilled rage, and when Charlotte was that angry she became deadly calm. How dare he try to belittle and patronise her in this way – it was clear that her first assessment of him had been correct. She shook her head slightly in disbelief, before looking him straight in the eye and without wavering said slowly.

“Oh yes, you’ve made yourself crystal clear, Sidney. I won’t bother you again. Only if you really don’t care what I think, I wonder why you would take the trouble to be quite so offensive and hurtful.”

She turned and walked away from him determined more than ever that he should take up not a single minute more of her precious time and that her talk would be the absolute best that it could be.

Sidney watched her storm away from him with something like regret, but he quickly shrugged it off. He couldn’t deny that she was perceptive, her comments last night had hurt him precisely because they been a little too close to the bone and indeed were thoughts he’d had himself over the years. But it was entirely something else to hear them come out of a stranger’s mouth, one that had known his family for less than a month. Who did she think she was anyhow? She actually knew very little about them all and what they’d been through. Yes, it was for the best that they had no further interactions. He was definitely attracted to her, he recognized that, but that wasn’t unnatural, as he was often attracted to intelligent women he met; he was also very good at controlling himself and he knew that acting on his attraction in this case couldn’t possibly lead anywhere good.

Charlotte’s talk was given extemporaneously. She commanded the room immediately and was an absolute mistress of the subject, walking confidently back and forth before her slides while speaking with humour, precision, and expertise. The audience loved her, and Tom was beyond delighted. Her talk was better than he could have hoped, and he even paid her the greatest compliment in his power by suggested that she had done a much better job than he could have ever done himself. 

Sidney, at least, saw that she had grasped – better than Tom – exactly what the they were trying to achieve with this vote and had bolstered their case through a clear-sighted understanding of the town’s past. There was a craft to what she’d done too, and he also saw that in glossing over certain aspects for clarity’s sake and as an adjustment for her audience, she had expertly drawn a seemingly natural line between the vision of the original Parker brothers, through to the present day and into the future of the Parker Trust. And on top of it all, she had been left to create her talk alone; no one had briefed her on what might be needed. Indeed, Sidney had just assumed that her lecture would be something along the lines of the genteel nostalgic interludes that Tom had given in the past, or more likely a rigorously intellectual analysis that would have gone over most people’s heads. He was blown away by her: perhaps she had observed and understood them all better than he thought. There was no longer any question that Tom’s tabled vote would pass later in the week, and after all of Sidney’s efforts the night before they had even seemed to line up a few new investors. 

When she spoke publicly, Charlotte had perfected the art of looking out into her audience to briefly make eye contact with as many people as she could. She employed the same technique today and though she did not avoid Sidney, when her eyes found him she seemed to merely look through him as though he were not there or at best an insignificance. He couldn’t deny that it hurt him a bit because he was proud of her, though he acknowledged that he had no right to be and he only had himself to blame for that.  
She had apologised so bravely and sincerely, and he had been a total dick by trying to shame her. It was completely out of character for him and he couldn’t understand why he was acting like one of those horrible men whose fragile egos needed to be protected at all costs. No sooner had he made certain that she would never respect or talk to him again, he regretted it. He didn’t know what made him lash out at her, it was not his usual way, maybe he was more affected than he thought by his discussion with Elise last night, which had gone very well, much better than the last time he tried to have this conversation with a woman he was casually seeing. Elise had been perceptive enough to suggest before she left this morning that he might actually be interested in the beautiful woman in the burgundy dress whom he could hardly take his eyes off all night. Was that what bothered him? Had he been that obvious and had Charlotte seen it too? 

Luncheon was held in the room that had once been the formal dining room and when Charlotte saw the seating plan, her heart sank. The world must really have it in for her today because she was placed between Francis Crowe – and Sidney. To make things worse, after having been so f**king rude to her earlier and making it clear that he had no regard for her feelings whatsoever, he now actually had the gall to try to speak to her. He pulled out her chair for her as she approached and taking his place to her right, said slightly teasingly.

“Any observations to share on the people here today, Charlotte?” 

“If I had, you’ve made perfectly clear that you don’t want to hear them.” She replied calmly, refusing to look at him.

“I know you must have some opinions. Come on, let’s hear them.”

He didn’t know why he was doing it, but he was daring her to look at him and to interact with him again.

Charlotte was exasperated. Why was he even speaking to her after the horrible things he had said earlier? She finally turned to look at him, scowling in a way that he had to admit he found rather sexy.

“Is this some kind of sick joke for you, Sidney? I’ve just endured a second brutal dressing-down from you in the space of twelve hours and I am not in the mood for a third. So if you don’t mind, I’d rather you saved your rudeness for someone else today so we can just get through this lunch. Or better still, you could try to be civil.”

“Hm. Quite right.” He said almost to himself nodding and smiling thoughtfully, and then, suddenly earnest, he leaned forward and tilted his head to the side to smile slightly at her, “Perhaps I will.” 

This attempt at charm pissed her off even more: if that was his idea of an apology she was not interested!

“But not with me.” She replied coldly.

She turned resolutely to strike up a conversation with Francis Crowe that lasted the whole of the lunch. Sidney was left feeling strangely excited by this short exchange. She really did not disappoint! Crowe, who had listened to the whole thing with bemused interest, whistled under his breath and raised his eyebrows quizzically at Sidney over her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corporate, grumpy Sidney
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477832369807/


	7. A Story of Microaggressions

Charlotte resolutely kept to her plan to ignore Sidney Parker for the last event of the weekend. On Sunday, Marion and Tom hosted a casual drinks party for friends and family to celebrate the success of the past few days. There were some awkward moments, but between focusing on the children; chatting with Arthur, Diana, Ben and Esther; getting to know Georgiana; laughing at the quite hilarious banter between Babington and Crowe; and listening to Tom go on and on to Lady Denham at the top of his voice about what a triumph the weekend had been, Sidney and Charlotte were mostly able to avoid each other. He would most likely be heading back to London tonight, she thought, and with any luck she wouldn’t have to see him much over the next few months. 

Charlotte was not the only one avoiding people. Esther had taken great pains to rebuff Babington when he approached her that afternoon.

“Are you avoiding me, Esther?” he asked.

“I thought that was obvious.” She replied curtly.

“Is that because you regret what happened last night?” he asked, slightly disappointed.

“I don’t do regret, Babington. I only do what I want to do… and it was a good night.” 

After a pause she turned to looked him in the eye and said. 

“No, I am avoiding you because I’d like to forgo the whole part where we pretend that we should meet up again and try get to know each other better.”

“And what if I’d actually like to do that?” he said softly, flashing her a winning smile. “I enjoyed myself last night too.”

“Then I guess, I’d have to let you down not so gently.” She said, walking away.

Babington was simultaneously shocked and aroused. “God she’s incredible!” He thought. He wasn’t one to push his case if a woman said she was not interested, but his night with Esther Denham had been surprising in a number of ways. First off, it had been surprisingly intense and emotional for them both; that is, it hadn’t had any of the awkwardness of a one-night stand at all. Second, they actually talked – and laughed – together afterwards, all night, in the dark, and they had told each other some personal things. He had told her about his love for his daughter and about his austere upbringing and all the pressure and expectation of being heir to the viscountcy, how much he hated the idea of being associated with all that aristo stuff, and how his choice of a career in art had created a rift with his father that was only healed just before his death last year. She talked about her parents dying when she was six and how she and her little brother had shuttled between boarding schools and her Aunt Denham’s house – with boarding school being the more nurturing of the two places. She had fallen asleep first, with her head on his chest, his muscular bear arm around her shoulder and his face in her amazing hair, and he had liked that – it felt right somehow. Neither seemed keen for her to leave, so he was surprised and disappointed to wake up alone in bed and to have his text messages ignored all afternoon.  
Frowning slightly, he watched her walk away and decided to give her some space before trying again – because he certainly planned on trying again.

Charlotte had been chatting with Georgiana for the last half hour. She was really struck, not just by how stunningly beautiful Georgie was, but also by her intelligence, humour, and drive. For someone so young, she came off as almost preternaturally in control. Charlotte could not imagine why such an independent young woman could possibly need a legal guardian any longer, other than in the most nominal way perhaps for financial reasons, and she wondered why on earth Sidney seemed to think he had any say in whether or not she went to Lagos in the summer, or anywhere else for that matter. He was clearly very controlling.

Georgie had approached her confidently and introduced herself before anyone else had a chance to do it, and she almost immediately dove into a discussion, seeking to pick Charlotte’s brain on her MA thesis which had to do with critical theory and decolonisation in museum and exhibition spaces, a subject that she seemed passionate about. She was considering another MA in curating contemporary art at the Royal College of Art because her aim was to eventually take over management of her parents’ art foundation. Charlotte was encouraging of that idea, but also thought she might want to consider a PhD. 

“Yeah, Sidney said the same.” She shrugged. “I am just impatient, I guess. I want to get on with things and a PhD seems like a massive commitment.”

“It is” said Charlotte honestly, “But it’s also incredibly rewarding, and it will allow you to really explore in depth some of the subjects you were talking to me about just now. You might be surprised at how much you enjoy it.”

Lady Denham joined their conversation at this moment, and giving Georgie a double kiss in greeting said

“What’s this I hear you saying about a PhD Georgie? Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t need to worry yourself about that. What’s the point in being so rich, otherwise? Wealthy girls don’t need to prove they’re clever, darling. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

Georgie stiffened demonstrably and Charlotte looked horrified. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sidney, who had been deep in discussion with Babington and Ben, turning towards them with a frown. Lady Denham had a bad habit of microaggression with Georgiana, and he was pretty sick of it. He had spoken to her about it privately, but she had merely brushed him off and he had a feeling that he might need to be more forceful about it the next time it happened, he also knew that Tom wouldn’t like it if he offended Lady D. 

Charlotte swallowed hard, trying to choose her words carefully,  
“Well, Lady Denham. I am not sure that’s exactly true these days.”

“Pshaw. My dear, of course, it’s true. It’s as true now as it ever was! Georgiana would do well to find a titled family to marry into. It really seems to be the done thing these days. Everyone is looking to give their tired old bloodlines a jolt with a bit of exotic blood. Look at the Duchess of Sussex, and there’s the Marchioness of Bath, too, lovely girl – didn’t your father do some business with her father Georgiana? My nephew, Edward has a title of course – and he’s available.” 

Charlotte could not believe what she was hearing. She saw Georgie’s lovely face turn slowly to stone. At 23 she suddenly looked world weary. She fixed Lady Denham with a look of withering disdain before excusing herself from the conversation to stand with Arthur. At the same moment Charlotte saw that Sidney was starting to move towards them. She could feel him come to a stop behind her shoulder, just in time to hear her say quietly but firmly,

“I am not sure I understand what you mean Lady Denham. Please explain? How on earth could Georgie change anyone’s bloodline?”

“Well, you know what I mean.” She said, waving her drink in the air. Charlotte felt herself getting very angry.

“I’m afraid, I don’t Lady Denham. Please do explain it to me, because I wouldn’t want to misunderstand you here, and from where I stand what you're saying sounds pretty offensive, if not blatantly racist.”

“Well! I didn’t mean anything like that. You young people are so sensitive these days. A person can’t say anything anymore.”

“On the contrary, I just happen to take exception to anything that smacks of racism. I’d be happy to email you some material on microaggressions if you’re interested, Lady Denham. I think you might find it very enlightening.”

Sidney joined in over her shoulder.

“I could also suggest one or two books on basic science that you might find interesting as well.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to offend anyone. You know that I adore Georgie, Sidney. She’s a delightful young lady.” Sidney smiled through gritted teeth, and Lady Denham took the opportunity at this moment to refresh her drink. 

Charlotte could feel Sidney’s body lingering behind her as Lady Denham walked away. He moved closer wanting to say something to her, but she tensed up and stepped quickly away from him to make her way over to Georgiana and Arthur.

“Thanks for handling that,” said Georgiana. “Sometimes, I just don’t have the energy to shut that stuff down.” 

“No one should put up with that bullshit!” Charlotte said smiling at the younger woman, putting her arm around her affectionately and giving her a little squeeze.

“Let’s go to the Crowne tonight for a drink. I want to convince you to do that PhD!”

“You don’t have to ask me twice! How quickly can we ditch this thing?”


	8. Sidney

Sidney, Babington and Crowe left for London directly after the afternoon drinks party, but not before Sidney was able to take Lady Denham aside and let her know that she needed to educate herself a little more on what was appropriate and that if she continued to insult Georgiana with her misguided racist notions, he would be forced to reconsider the level of involvement the Parker Trust would have in future with the Denhams. Lady Denham understood him perfectly. She, at least, was under no illusions about Tom’s level of influence with the Trust. It was all Sidney. Sidney who made suggestions and drummed up the support and the funds; Sidney who had the ear of the rest of the board; Sidney whose influential connections made things move and made the Parker Trust a growing concern in the world of property investment. It had long outstretched the Denham Trust, with which it retained its connection out of nothing more than a respect for tradition and a shared history in Sanditon. Indeed, though Sanditon had been the founding concern of the Trust it was now a fairly minor part of the Parker portfolio which extended around the country and beyond thanks to the exercise of Sidney’s soft power.

Charlotte could now relax, knowing that she wouldn’t risk running into Sidney everywhere and she fell back into her previous routine, with the added pleasure of her growing friendship with Georgiana. 

“Guess who sent me a very contrite letter of apology today.” Said Georgiana as she slid into her seat at the coffee shop on the promenade next to Charlotte.

“You’re kidding!” said Charlotte, taking the letter from her and reading it over. “I wouldn’t have expected it. How do you feel about it Georgie?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really have anything to do with her anyhow, but if it’s genuine I guess I am happy to have it, but you never know with Lady D. It’s obvious that Sidney had something to do with it.”

“Really? Do you think?” 

“Oh yeah, she doesn’t really care about me but she sure as hell wouldn’t want to cross Sidney!”

“Why’s that?” Said Charlotte genuinely confused. 

“Oh Charlotte, surely you can see that he’s the driving force behind all this.” Georgiana swept her hand across Sanditon’s old town.

“If he left it to Tom, the Trust would probably be gone in less than a generation and they’d all be broke. Well, Tom, Diana and Arthur would be broke, since they don’t really do anything other than live off their trust funds. Sidney’s the only one with a real job, which he’s amazing at, on top of being the real power behind the throne on the board of trustees.”

When she thought about it, it did made sense, but it hadn’t really occurred to Charlotte before and she added it to the list of things she already knew about him. 

“So you mean to tell me that Sidney at the age of, what is he… 37? Lived for a couple of years in Lagos, built up an internationally respected blue-chip gallery, was instrumental in the setting up the Arts Repatriation Commission, and on the side pretty much runs one of the country’s fastest growing property investment portfolios?”

“Yep, pretty much. He’s irritating as hell sometimes, but he works really hard. Also – he’s 36.” 

Charlotte whistled. “Yeah, he’s not my favourite person in the world, but I have to say that’s something else. He’s certainly full of surprises. We didn’t really hit it off, though, I have to admit.”

“Why, what happened? That’s weird. He was really complimentary about your talk. I’d characterise him as generally pretty mild mannered and charming, nothing ever seems to ruffle or disturb him. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard him raise his voice or speak harshly to anyone and I’ve known him since I was about 12.” 

Charlotte was surprised again. That certainly hadn’t been her experience with him. She brushed off Georgie’s question, murmuring something about him not being as helpful as she had hoped with the archives and redirected the discussion.

“How have you found him as a guardian?”

“Yeah. Generally really good. He was really close with my parents…” She paused for a minute and swallowed hard, fighting back sudden tears. “They trusted him. And since I didn’t want to go back to Lagos for school and Uni after they died, he’s handled everything for me here. I am grateful to him for that, really. I haven’t always been the easiest...”

“But what about now? I can understand that you needed a guardian when you were younger, but you’re 23 now, does he just handle financial stuff or…?”

“He definitely handles my finances, but I guess he’s a bit fatherly too – maybe older brother is more accurate. He can be a bit over-protective. Scrutinizes who I date and vetos any travel he doesn’t approve of, particularly this summer. He was a real jerk about this summer – practically ordered me to stay in Sanditon and all but threatened to cut me off so I wouldn’t be able to go.”

“You’re kidding! That sounds really controlling, honestly. You’re a grown woman you should be able to date who you want and go where you want in my opinion.”

Georgie considered this for a moment, slightly surprised that her friend would see it that way.

“He can be I guess, particularly over the past few months for some reason. But I don’t tell him everything, Charlotte,” she added mysteriously. “I know that he always has my best interests at heart and wants to do what my parents expected him to. He’s my only real connection to them here and that’s important to me. I think they were a little bit like parents to him too when he came to Lagos to do his research. I was too young to realise, but it was a terrible time for him.”

Charlotte’s curiosity was piqued, and she tried sound casual. “Oh really, Why?”

“Oh shit, you don’t know the story? OK, well, all through the last year of school and university he was with this girl - Eliza - that he was madly in love with. His first love etc. beautiful and charming and all that and he was just crazy about her. He went to Oxford, she went somewhere else but dropped out of uni fairly quickly and they stayed together through all that time. She did some internships in London and fell in with a high society crowd while he was doing his MA at Oxford and then they got engaged. But when his mum got cancer, he came home to be with her to the end. She declined pretty quickly and of course his dad had died a few years before that of a heart-attack, so Sidney stayed home for a bit to be with Tom and Diana and Arthur. It was an awful time for all of them, as you can imagine. He must have been about 21 or 22. Anyhow, Eliza decided that this was the perfect moment to tell him that she was leaving him for someone else. Some billionaire dude she’d met in LA called Campton or Campbell or something, who she actually did marry a few months later. Arthur told me that he’s never seen his brother like that – he was devastated, begged her to stay with him… but when she left him he found out that she had been cheating on him almost throughout their entire relationship and always with different wealthy society guys, sort of like she was shopping around for the best one while keeping him as a back-up. Ugh. I think that’s what really broke him. He started partying pretty hard, getting into fights, sleeping around, drinking, doing coke – the cliché works! He was like that for a few years and then he moved to Lagos. He always says my parents saved him – I think they could see he was in a lot of pain. He met them through mutual contacts and then he lived on our family compound on Victoria Island while they were setting up the foundation. I think he thought of them a bit as surrogate parents. They were really warm and welcoming, and maybe he really needed that then – to be taken care of a bit after his mother died. He’s always been the carer in this family. Anyhow, he eventually dried himself out, but Arthur says he’s been like an emotional husk for the last 15 years. Barely shows any anything. None of them have seen him cry since their mother died, not even after my parents… but he also never gets angry or raises his voice either. You’ll notice that they all adore him though, and rely on him – probably too much.”

It took Charlotte some time to digest this story. She thought about it more than she would ever have cared to admit throughout the week. It sounded pretty traumatic to have your first love go so spectacularly badly and at the worst time in your life – when you lose a parent. She was amazed that he had recovered from it as well as he had done, though it still didn’t really explain why he had been so horrible to her. 

***  
Sidney was not particularly attached to any material objects, but he did really, really enjoy driving his hunter green 1966 Alfa Romeo Spider Duetto in the summer up the coast to Sanditon. Usually he took the train up, but sometimes when the weather was fine and dry, he called it out of the garage and took it for a spin. Once he got out of London and was flying over the winding roads with the roof down it felt like the weight of the world was lifted from him, and reaching that twist in the road that took him across the cliffs and into the town towards Trafalgar House was one of his few real pleasures. He particularly savoured it this evening as he spun into town with Babington in the passenger seat checking his phone frantically.

“Look up Babbers! Look at the sunset! What the hell is with you and that phone?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just checking if she’s written back.”

“Bloody hell. You’ve really got it bad for Esther. She hasn’t been in touch at all these past weeks? I warned you about her – I would just let it go. We need to focus on work this week. I really want to get something agreed with Ben for the project at Whytcliffe. I think he’s got some great ideas, and we should have some agreement between us before we meet him tomorrow. Also, Otis put together a list of contacts and potential spaces to look at when he’s in Lagos this summer. I made some further additions. His assistant sent it over this morning, did you have a chance to look at it yet? 

“I made some suggestions too and sent it to him. He’s all set to head over there in a few weeks.”

“And did you sell that Mark Bradford piece at Art Basel last week? The one that Clooney was originally interested in?”

“Yep. It’s all agreed.”

They talked business most of the rest of the way into town as the sun dropped behind the cliffs. Sidney left Babington at Denham House, wishing him good luck in his search for Esther and sped off in the direction of Tom and Marion’s. He felt calmer than last time and refreshed after a few weeks of concentrating solely on work. These weeks away had been really clarifying and he was sure that that he would now be able to meet with Charlotte again as indifferent acquaintances, without being so disturbed by her. He must have just been feeling the pressure of the upcoming board of trustees’ vote that weekend. It was strange, and he had acted out of character, to say the least. Arriving late to Trafalgar House Sidney slipped into the annex and put his bag down on his bed while he searched for bedlinens. He had not had a chance to let Marion and Tom know he was coming for the week again, and nothing was ready, but he was looking forward to seeing them and spending time with the kids. 

He woke up extra early the next morning and the weather looked particularly fine. He wanted to get out for a run on his favourite route before it got too hot and before the trails started to fill up with people. He started on his usual path which took him over the cliffs and back down the beach towards the cove. Even during the busiest times, the cove, which was hidden from the main path by a fence and a staircase chiseled into the cliff, was usually pretty quiet and at 5 am it would be utterly deserted. It had always been his little tradition to end his run with a swim there and this morning, with no one around he pulled off his things like a kid and dove in completely naked. There was nothing like the feeling of the cold sea on his bare skin and he felt immediately happy and refreshed. He swam back closer to shore underwater and came up suddenly for air standing on the pebbled bottom and brushing the water off his face and body. He looked up and realised that there was someone else on the beach. Though his eyes took a second to focus, he knew instantly that it was Charlotte.  
Charlotte, who had clearly also been running – on his secret running trail – and was now frozen, staring at him standing naked in the sea.

***

“Oh fuck!!” Charlotte whispered to herself when she realised who it was standing there looking like Poseidon himself. She closed her eyes and turned swiftly around, but it was too late. She had seen everything and now she would never, ever be able to get the vision of him emerging dripping like a beautiful chiseled god from the water, out of her head.  
“Charlotte!” He cried in surprise, and then a touch more sardonically, “am I never to get away from you?”  
“I am so sorry! I didn't know you were in town!” she called out over her shoulder sounding more and more like an idiot in her own ears. Why the hell would it matter if she knew he was in town or not, and how the hell was she going to exit this situation without looking like a complete ninny? Scrambling indecorously back up the stone steps was simply out of the question at this moment, she’d look like a frightened child terrified by a bit of naked male flesh. 

She could hear him coming out of the water now, the beach pebbles crunching beneath his bare feet – for the love of god, was he walking towards her? She looked down to see that his shorts and t-shirt and shoes had been left not far from where she was standing, but realising that she could not risk him coming any closer, she waved goodbye feebly over her shoulder and moved swiftly back to the steps, picking her way nimbly and calmly – at least she hoped it looked calm – up to the top of the cliffs and dashing off in the direction of home. Sidney, bemused, watched as her smooth tanned legs in those little running shorts went quickly up the steps and took off once she reached the top. He sighed and for a split second he contemplated going after her, forcing her to speak to him and to acknowledge what had just happened, but instead he got dressed and sat for another 10 minutes looking out to sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidney/Poseidon
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/365213851016182952/


	9. Well then!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for all the comments. I really appreciate them!

Charlotte was grateful that she had allocated Monday and Tuesday to writing at home and so Marion and Tom were not expecting to see her until at least Wednesday, when she had planned to sketch the plasterwork in the study all morning. The weather had been hot and dry for the past week and Georgie and Arthur had gone on an overnight a bicycle ride that day. With any luck, Sidney would also be busy, and she would be able to avoid him a bit longer, she knew it couldn’t be forever. On Wednesday morning she seemed to be in luck. Sidney appeared to be out or was staying in his annex and the kids, who had just started school holidays, were busy playing somewhere in the house while Tom and Marion pottered about. She had the study entirely to herself and was quietly working on her watercolours and sketches, when she tensed at the sound of footsteps behind her and heard a deep familiar voice say 

“Ah! the ubiquitous Dr Heywood.” 

She glanced briefly over her shoulder at him and feeling her cheeks grow hot suddenly at the memory of his body, she looked quickly back at her sketch. 

“I am easy enough to avoid if you’d rather not see me, Sidney.”

“Not always, Charlotte.” He replied, smiling to himself, remembering the cove. 

She was good with a retort, he had to admit. Always hitting the nail on the head, because of course he might have easily avoided her now. He was on his way to the kitchen and through the open door he saw her working quietly here. Like a moth to the flame he had to come in; he had to hear her voice. It had been two days since the incident on the beach and he’d thought about it a bit more than was comfortable. Any hope he’d had that he could conquer his attraction to her was demolished the moment he saw her standing on the beach staring at him. He stood there for a minute looking at her back, mesmerized by the thought of pushing her t-shirt off the middle of her shoulder, and kissing her neck. Christ! Why could he not get these thoughts out of his head?! He moved closer to her and she listened to his footsteps, half terrified, half excited by what he might do. She could feel him beginning to lean forward over her shoulder to look at her sketch when they heard the kids screaming in distress somewhere in the house. 

They both snapped their heads around to the door. Charlotte dropped her sketch book and dashed to the staircase taking the steps two at a time with Sidney right behind her. 

“Where are they” he said frantically looking around. 

“Upstairs. The attic I think!” said Charlotte listening for their cries. 

Sidney and Charlotte bounded up the narrow stairs and ran into the attic room. Henry was sitting in the middle of the floor pale and in shock – he had a huge gash in his arm that was pumping blood all over the floor and the girls were screaming in terror. 

“Jenny, Alicia go find your parents. Sidney call an ambulance!” Charlotte inspected the wound, which was fairly long, to see if there was anything embedded in it and seeing that there was nothing began to apply pressure with her hand. “I…I need something clean to staunch the blood,” she cried. Sidney looked around frantically for something appropriate but everything in the attic was dusty and greasy, he was using one hand to hold his phone to call the ambulance, but with the other he was trying to take off his oxford shirt for a makeshift bandage. Charlotte could see that his hands were shaking and that he couldn’t manage both phone and shirt easily, so on impulse she grabbed the hem of her own cotton t-shirt and pulled it quickly over her head with one hand. She put in on the wound and applied pressure with her hand, while raising Henry’s arm over his head to slow the flow of blood.  
Sidney was so terrified for Henry that he barely noticed what she had done until he got off the phone and turned back to her. For half a second he was arrested by what he saw, his eyes ran briefly over her blood streaked torso, chest and bra before quickly coming back to fix firmly on her face.

“It’s on the way.” He said. 

She met his eyes with a touch of defiance. “I think I’ve stopped the blood, but he’s lost quite a bit. It looks like he cut himself on that.” She nodded to a jagged strip of rusty metal and glass lying on the floor. 

“God knows what they were doing. He’ll probably need a tetanus shot too. Go get Tom and Marion. I don't know if the girls were able to find them. I just needed to get them out of the room. They were panicking him. I’ll stay with Henry.” 

She looked in the boy’s frightened little eyes and said gently while stroking his hair. 

“You’re all right Henry, don’t worry darling. You’ll be all right. We’ve got you.” Watching her comfort his nephew, Sidney paused to undo the remaining buttons on his half open shirt. He pulled it off and threw it at her before disappearing out the door.

Tom and Marion had gone with Henry in the ambulance and Charlotte was in the bathroom trying to stop her herself from shaking while also trying to wash Henry’s blood off her chest and arms. She was wearing Sidney’s shirt and felt comforted and surrounded by the smell that she now associated so strongly with him. She buried her nose in the collar and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a minute and imagining his beautiful chiseled chest, generously covered in dark brown curling hair, his hipbones and the trail of hair that went down towards…. 

“God. Charlotte. Snap out of it” she said sharply to her reflection in the mirror. “You might really need to get on Tinder soon if you go on like this. You’ve seen quite a few naked men before, girl!” but not like this one, she might have added silently in her head.

She came quietly down the steps and saw Sidney in the darkened sitting room. He was watching a film with the girls on the sofa and they were resting their heads on his shoulder and knee. He had one hand on each head and was stroking their hair softly while laughing at the film and chatting quietly with them. They looked very peaceful, Charlotte thought. Sidney turned and saw her standing there. He got up, carefully picking his way around their tired little bodies and came out in the hallway, closing the door slightly behind him.

“Hey.” He said gently, noticing with a lurch in his chest that she was wearing his shirt.

“Hey,” she said nervously, still shaking from the release of adrenaline. She saw that he had found a grey t-shirt somewhere and that it was old and slightly too tight. He folded his arms across his chest protectively and his biceps bulged slightly. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to touch them. To have those arms wrapped around her and to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“Thanks for the shirt.” She said softly. “Sorry it’s a mess. I’ll get it dry-cleaned and bring it back when I get a chance.”

“Charlotte. I don’t give a shit about the shirt. What matters is that Henry’s OK. Tom and Marion rang and said they probably won’t be back until late tonight, he’s lost quite a bit of blood and will need a transfusion, but he’s going to be fine.” He paused. “You acquitted yourself well there, Dr Heywood. I wouldn’t have expected you to be so, um… capable.”

“Why’s that?” she said, immediately defensive. “Because I am a woman or because up until now you’ve dismissed me as being too wrapped up in my… what was it, again? Oh yes – my ‘ivory tower’!’” 

“Don’t twist my words – I am just trying to say I‘m impressed.” 

“Well, I am the second of seven kids and grew up on a farm, so there were a lot of injuries.” 

“Seven!? Wow! Well, I don’t think I would have been that calm or known exactly what to do – so I am glad you were here and so is everyone else. Just accept the compliment and don’t be so bloody argumentative!” 

He put both hands on her shoulders in a friendly way and squeezed. And then, because he really couldn’t help himself, he rubbed his thumb roughly at a streak of blood on her neck as if he was doing her a favour at not letting her go out covered in blood. 

"We can't let you go out into the street with blood on you, Heywood," but then he stopped and paused to look at her.

“You’re shaking” he said gently, wondering what she would do if he just pulled her in and wrapped her in his arms as he really wanted to. Instead, he dropped them down “Go home and eat something; have a shower and get some rest – the girls are calm now. I’ll get their supper and put them to bed.” 

She nodded obediently and on a sudden impulse he added,

“Listen, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot all those weeks ago. I was a bit harsh and I’m sorry. Can we maybe start again and try to be friends?”

Charlotte smiled and nodded again. She slowly turned to pick up her sketch book and bag, which he had placed in a chair in the hallway and opened the door. Sidney headed back into the sitting room and stopping suddenly, not quite ready to let her go, turned back with a smile and a mischievous look in his eye

“Oh, and um, Charlotte, I meant to say: about our… meeting… in the cove a few days ago, I hope you weren’t too embarrassed.”

A glint appeared in her eye and a hint of smile. 

“Why would I be embarrassed? I was fully clothed.” 

“Right …good point.” He laughed a little, then dipped his head to look at his feet. He had to admit she was very good at unsettling him. “Well, it wasn’t fair of you to ambush me like that.” 

“I can assure you that it was not deliberate on my part!”

“Nor mine!”

“Well then.”

“Well then.”

There was a pause as they stared each other down for a moment, as though daring each other to look away.

In the end they averted their eyes simultaneously, laughing slightly. He turned back to the sitting room.

“Anyhow,” she continued. “I guess we’re fairly even now. Bye, Sidney.” She smiled back at him quickly and then disappeared out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidney in his grey t-shirt
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477832432581/
> 
> Charlotte's t-shirt and jeans combo  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477824220104/


	10. Whytcliffe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hmm I just wrote this chapter, and once I finished realised that it should have been chapter 9 instead of the "well then" scene! I am still working out ideas as I write and getting used to the rhythm of writing chapter-by-chapter, but i really wanted to include this little interlude. Ah well, "more haste, less speed" as they say... 
> 
> So - my apologies, everyone! It's not ideal, but it will have to do!

By the time Sidney dropped Babington off at the hotel it was already dark; he checked his phone one more time for any reply from Esther before approaching reception and sighed at the lack of response. George was pretty self-confident and generally trusted his instincts with women, but even he had begun to wonder if the connection they had seemed to have those few hours in his room a couple of weeks ago had been a figment of his imagination or just wishful thinking. If that was the case, at least he hoped that she would avoid him this week while he and Sidney were here on business. Otherwise, seeing her would be just too painful.

He collected his key from reception and for half a minute considered having a drink at the bar alone, before deciding to play it safe and prepare in his room for the meeting with the architect tomorrow morning at Whytcliffe. He noticed he’d been given the same suite as last time and sighed a bit on entering. From the corridor he could see the cosy and inviting glow of the table lamps that had been turned on in the sitting room by housekeeping, and he dropping his small leather travel bag at the door, mentally preparing for an evening of paperwork and maybe a fine whisky from room service – it was going to be a lonely week and he was missing his daughter already despite having just spoken to her for their evening goodnight ritual. 

Scrolling distractedly through his work emails on his phone and running his fingers absently through his hair, George failed to notice as he turned the corner that Esther was seated at the table in the sitting room.

“Welcome back, Babington.” She said casually.

“Fuck!!” he cried out, looking up from his phone with a start. “What the hell, Esther! You scared the shit out of me! I’ve been texting you all week – is this is your idea of a reply?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me.” She said innocently.

“I’d have been happier if you’d given me warning, instead of playing these games!” he said half delighted and half annoyed.

“Ah, well. My mistake then. I guess I’ll be going now.” She got up to go with a calm expression on her face that completely belied the pounding of her heart, and as she brushed past him to move towards the door, he caught her hand and held it.

“No. Don’t go,” he whispered with a smile, tugging her towards him gently. He threw his phone down on the table and brought both hands to either side of her face pulling it towards him to kiss her hungrily, and he was delighted to feel her respond in kind.

***

The proposed project at Whytcliffe was entirely Sidney’s brainchild, but he had been careful to bring Babington and Susan along for the ride and to carefully detail what he envisioned. The three of them had founded their gallery together almost seven years ago. Sidney and Babington were very young and very driven but Susan Worcester – Lady Susan, actually, her father had been an earl – lent their project and ideas immediate weight and gravitas, not least because she was a legendary figure in the art world. Though British, she had spent the large part of her career in New York and was a formidable art dealer who had ties with every important project and artist of the past thirty years. Sidney and Babington could not believe their luck when she cut ties with her old gallery and returned to London to approach them with an investment and partnership proposal, as well as a list of important artists who wanted to come with her. 

She had been quietly observing how they operated for some time and was impressed with what they had achieved. Sidney’s early work with the Adeyemi collection and his aggressive lobbying for art and artefact repatriation had caught her eye, and on top of that she approved of their artist, community, and museum-centred approach. Selling was important, of course, but it wasn’t everything, not by a long shot. In the early noughties at the height of the art boom, she had been greatly disturbed by the way that young artists were being plucked straight from art school and their careers groomed for quick success by an industry that was only interested in making money; likewise, the growth of biennials and art fairs was feeding an insatiable level of art tourism that was constantly in search of new parts of the world to dip into and plunder for saleable ideas. It was cultural imperialism rebooted and it frightened her. Sidney and Babington had stood out, and had indeed taken a bit of flack, for trying to do things differently, and though they were well-respected and had a good amount of success it was Susan’s involvement that had really sent their gallery stratospheric and increased their reach. 

Babington was generally in charge of sales and artist-client relations. He wined and dined collectors and liased with major institutions and socialized at art events; Sidney was the intellectual powerhouse, handing exhibitions, talking museums and artists through ideas and concepts, helping collectors to develop their collections slowly and sensitively, and recognizing and supporting interesting new artists and ripples in the cultural world. And he was personally involved in every single one of the gallery’s publications, checking every galley proof with care before it went to print. Susan took more of a backseat when it came to day-to-day concerns, especially after they had taken on Otis Molyneux a few years ago as COO – she trusted “the boys” as she called them to generally make good decisions, but her name was still a draw for clients and her oversight and vote on any changes was essential. Worcester, Babington & Parker, or WBP as it was commonly known, now had an extensive roster of established artists who trusted them to put their best interests first, as well as galleries in London, New York, Hong Kong and possibly a fourth in the pipeline for Lagos. All the galleries were salesrooms of course, but they were also exhibition spaces, with a staff dedicated solely to education and developing collaborative projects with the local community. 

Sidney’s idea now was to develop a rural property above Sanditon that he partly owned with his siblings, into an art destination, one that would draw new visitors to the area to see world-class exhibitions but also encourage local cultural investment in the community. He had been open about the obvious conflict of interest – Whytcliffe, the relatively modest 17th-century manor house and its various outbuildings, belonged to the Parker family. It had been neglected for years, however, and was very run down, needing major architectural interventions to be fit for purpose, but any sale or lease of it would benefit him. And of course the fortunes of Sanditon were so intimately connected with his family that he felt it needed to be thought through carefully by his partners. He had been happy to consider doing something similar elsewhere – perhaps in the north of the country where arguably this kind of venture would be more beneficial to a struggling rural community – but the cost of being so far away from London where they had no established connection to a community was deemed prohibitive and risky. He knew, at least, that he could convince his siblings to sell or lease the property to the gallery at a reasonable rate. During the Investors’ weekend, Sidney had had an interesting discussion with Ben DuPre about the buildings and he had brought Susan and Otis up to the site early the next morning before they left town to see the place and give their opinions. They all seemed excited about it and in the intervening weeks an agreement had been reached with his siblings for a very reasonable tenancy agreement. The project was now set to go ahead, and this week was all about Sidney and Babington ironing out details with Ben so that he could start working on a design as soon as possible.

***

On Monday morning Sidney pulled up in front of the hotel and Babington in sunglasses, shorts and a linen shirt slipped into the passenger seat.

“You look refreshed this morning, young Babbers. Good night?”

“Fucking brilliant.” He replied with a grin. “Esther turned up!”

Sidney laughed loudly.

“She really made you squirm first didn’t she? I am glad it worked out though!”

He squeezed his friend’s shoulder affectionately and then started the car and they sped down the long drive in the direction of Whytcliffe. 

“Yeah. I really like her, Sid… like a scary amount. But she’s pretty hard to read. Let’s just say we have a really strong connection and she seems to enjoy being with me. I mean to talk too, not just to…you know. But then she’s gone in the morning.”

“Well she does run the place. Maybe she doesn’t want to seem unprofessional to her staff? Or she just doesn’t want them knowing her business.”

“Hmm. Yeah, maybe that’s it. I hope so. Anyhow, how are you? Sleep well?”

“Like a stone.” Sidney paused, before he continued, but he really needed to tell someone.

“I had a bit of a weird encounter on my run this morning. I went for a swim in the ocean at the cove, and when I came out of the water that architectural historian Charlotte Heywood was standing on the beach.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I was naked, Babs.”

George hooted with laughter.

“Hahaha. That is the best thing I have heard all week. “

“Fuck you.”

“Well? Did she faint at the sight of you? Or did you take her in your arms and make sweet love to her on the beach?” Babington could hardly get the words out from laughing so hard.

“Seriously, piss off! It was 5 in the morning and only locals know that place anyhow – what the hell was she even doing there?”

“Does it matter? Look, I am sure she’s seen a naked man before. It’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t know. It was weird.” 

“Hmm. Yeah, well Crowe did say he sensed some pretty heavy vibes between you two at that Trustees luncheon – maybe there’s something there, Sid.”

“Nah. We really got off on the wrong foot, and she’s made it quite clear that she has no interest in me. She left pretty quickly! Practically ran away.”

Babington looked at his friend curiously but decided to leave the subject of Charlotte for now. He, Sidney, and Crowe had been friends at boarding school and uni and he knew when not to push Sidney’s buttons – his friend seemed unusually sensitive about this woman. In any case, any further discussion on the subject had to wait, they were pulling into the site now and could see that Ben was already there looking around.


	11. Esther

George woke early. For a moment he wasn’t sure where he was, but then he felt Esther’s drowsy fingers move on his hip and her hair tickle his chin and he remembered everything. Everything from the night before and the four nights before that. Each night had been more intense and more wonderful than the last and each morning his disappointment that she was gone was more acute. He never asked her to stay on all those other nights – it had to be something she wanted to do and he wasn’t going to pressure her, especially after Sidney had reminded him that this was her place of work – but he always hoped that she would stay, and now here she was sleeping peacefully in his arms with the sun shining brightly through the curtains and creeping across the bed. 

He slid his hand down from her hair and rested it on the small of her back and she shifted slightly, snuggling closer to his chest and sighing contentedly. He smiled to himself. It was morning and she was still in his bed. He had no idea why this felt so right, but he wasn’t going to question it.  
Slowly her eyes fluttered open and she lifted her head to look up at him.

“Good morning” he said gently.

“Mmm, good morning” she replied drowsily and almost shyly with a smile on her face. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and she sat up in bed startled. 

“Oh my God, Babington. What time is it?”

“About 7:30, why?”

“I…I ... shouldn’t be here. I have to go!”

“Why Esther? I am glad you’re here. I don’t think your staff will care, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

“I don’t give a damn what the staff thinks of me.” She said sharply.

Babington was taken aback, if she didn’t care about how it looked professionally then what was the problem? 

“Okaaay,” he said slowly “So explain it to me. If you don’t want to be here, why have you been coming back to my room every night this week.”

Esther avoided his eye.

“Is it so inconceivable that this might be just about the sex? You don’t have a reputation for being exactly celibate Babington. Is every woman who sleeps with you supposed to fall in love with you too?”

Babington was a bit hurt by this, but he was also perceptive. He chose his words carefully,

“I didn’t say that, but I don’t think this is just about the sex either. And Esther, ..." He moved towards her in the bed and turned her chin very gently to face him “I‘m not going to pretend that I am not developing feelings for you.”

Esther paused a moment and their eyes met. She swallowed and seemed to be considering how to reply. Then turning back around she said quietly,

“I should go.” 

Babington sighed slightly, and wisely decided to lighten the mood.

“At least meet me for dinner tonight. I have to leave really early tomorrow morning. It’s my weekend with Tacita, but I would like to take you to dinner before I go. Just for a change we can spend time together fully clothed. No strings attached. I know you have a reputation to uphold.”

He heard her laugh slightly and then looking back at him over her bare shoulder with a seductive smile she said.

“Fine. 7:30 in the restaurant.” 

He watched contentedly as she dressed and left.

***

Esther went about her morning in a daze. As CEO and acting general manager of Denham House, there was always more to do than there were hours in the day. Usually during the week after her assistant brought her morning double shot of espresso, she dove in and didn’t usually stop working until late in the evening. But this morning she found she had been sitting at her desk staring out the window for at least a half an hour before her assistant came in to brief her on appointments and decisions for the day. Was she really falling for Babington? It wasn’t something she had expected, and it was both a bewitching and worrying thought. She really had enjoyed her week with him – not only were there spectacular fireworks between them in bed, he also made her laugh, and these past years she’d almost forgotten what that was like. But he also had a reputation, and there were other reasons too for her to consider the possibility of a relationship with him to be a non-starter. 

She suddenly realised that Alex was standing in the doorway of her office and had said her name at least twice before she snapped back to reality. 

“Sorry, Alex. I don't know where my head is at this morning. Yes, what you outlined in your email is fine. Tell the wine director that I okay’d that extra 6 bottles of the ‘88 Bollinger for Saturday, and please arrange that second meeting with the architect for next week. My aunt should probably also be there – contact Clara to arrange it, and I guess Edward too – we should keep up some semblance of appearance that he does something around here. Oh and before I forget, can you please double check that whoever has been assigned as his personal housekeeper knows that Mr Volkakov’s rooms must always be exactly 25C and that all of the bulbs in his room have to be switched to dimmer halogen before he arrives tonight. His PA has been bothering me about it, as if i don't have other things to think about, and you know how he can get.”

Alex took down her instructions and nodded before getting up, but he hesitated before leaving her office. He looked at her curiously – there had been rumours among the staff that she had spent every night this week in Lord Babington’s suite. If that was true, it may account for her good mood all week, at least that’s what he hoped for his boss, whom he admired greatly. But today she just seemed flat and a little bit anxious and it made him doubly nervous about what he needed to tell her.

“I will arrange all of that. Uh, before I go, Esther, there’s just one thing I thought I should bring up with you.”

Esther looked up from her computer curiously. Alex’s voice sounded both serious and a little bit scared.

“What is it?”

“It’s your brother.” 

“What about Edward?” Now she was alarmed.

“Well some rumours have come to my attention that his behaviour towards some members of staff has been … inappropriate.” Esther sat up, her eyes wide.

“Close the door and sit down. What’s going on?”

Esther’s heart sank. She knew that when it came to Edward where there was smoke there was almost always fire and she wasn’t going to insult Alex’s intelligence by pretending otherwise. She was usually able to head any problems off at the pass, so acute was her intuition – some might call it codependency – that her little brother was going astray. But she had been distracted since the Investors’ weekend and had slackened the vigilance that she had developed to contain and curtail her brother’s bad decisions and indiscretions over the years. She had spent almost a lifetime cleaning up his messes and protecting him from himself, and sometimes it felt like a full-time job that left no room for anything else.

Esther listened carefully as Alex detailed the stories that had reached his ears of Edward making aggressive and inappropriate advances on some of the wait staff and the housekeeping staff, often the youngest and most recently employed – in other words those who were least willing to come forward and make a formal complaint and those least likely to know that Esther did not put up with any of that kind of behaviour at all from any of her staff or from her guests. Indeed, a few years ago she had asked a very powerful Hollywood producer to leave the premises when word had reached her of his intimidating and harassing behavior towards her staff. It was a controversial decision with her aunt at the time, and the producer had made sure that no actors stayed in the hotel for some years, but with his spectacular downfall in the wake of #MeToo, her actions had been utterly vindicated. And now here was her own brother undermining that reputation and her own efforts! Making a mental note that a review of their processes with the HR manager were in order and that new staff needed to be properly briefed as soon as they were hired to send a clear message that harassment there would not be tolerated, she said,

“Thanks for telling me, Alex. Leave it with me. I’ll deal with Edward personally – today. And could you please schedule a meeting with HR – it’s clear we need to review our processes asap! Staff need to know that they can come to us with complaints.”

No sooner had Alex left, she picked up the phone to ring her brother.

“Esther. What’s up? I have a tennis match in 10-minutes, so I don’t have much time to chat. Wait - have I missed a meeting or something?”

“No Edward, it’s much more serious than that. Forget your match. I want you in my office in 15 minutes. No excuses!” 

She hung up but saw that her hands were shaking. Esther could handle almost anything and anyone with confidence and aplomb but her brother was a different story. They had been locked in a relationship of mutual dependency since their parents’ deaths when they were very young. Aunt Denham’s house had been cold and lacking in all real affection, indeed she had seemed to enjoy pitting them against one another to compete for her favour, affection and her money. 

Esther had hated returning to Denham House on school holidays and had done her utmost to shelter Edward from the worst of it and to solidify the bonds between them as a means of protecting herself from the devastating loneliness that she sometimes felt. But as Edward grew older and more thoughtless and entitled, he took this protection for granted and increasingly aligned himself with Lady Denham in a bid to edge his sister out of an inheritance that he felt he was owed. It made Esther incalculably sad to see it. She didn’t care at all about the money, but she did care about her brother. He had been such a sweet little boy and they had clung to each other as children before Lady Denham sent them to different schools and on holidays worked to undermine their care for one another in the interests of making them both dependent on her. 

Clara’s appearance on the scene had made everything worse lately. She seemed to bring out the worst in Edward, and her own influence on her brother had diminished as a result. Esther had hoped that this day would never come – indeed she had worked hard to head it off and check her brother before anything truly reprehensible happened – but here they were.

Edward sauntered casually into her office in his tennis whites.

“Ok. I am here. What was so urgent?”

“Have you been hitting on any of the women on staff?”

“Oh god!” Edward rolled his eyes. “Is that all? There was that girl in housekeeping a few weeks ago. But it was really nothing, she had been flirting with me for ages. She knew what she was doing.”

“Edward – she’s nineteen! And that’s not the story I heard. I heard that you touched her, and that she was terrified and that there are at least two other tales plus a number of instances of inappropriate sexual comments – again, with some of the newest and youngest members of staff who you were involved in hiring! What the hell are you playing at? Part of your job is to oversee HR for god’s sake. You know what this means!”

“Oh come on. It wasn’t that bad! They totally enjoyed it – it’s just a bit of flirting and banter.”

Esther could hardly believe her ears. Was he as far gone as this? She felt guilty, she felt ashamed and she felt really angry.

“Edward, I am sorry to have to do this, but I am asking you to resign from your position as Assistant General Manager. Alex will now take over your duties – which frankly he’s being doing for the last year without the pay or recognition! I have chosen not to have the HR director present for this meeting to save you the embarrassment and because you’re my brother, but of course we can do this through the proper channels and observe the proper processes if you refuse to resign, either way Katherine will be in touch this afternoon with an offer.”

“Esther! You can’t do this. Aunt won’t hear of it.”

“Watch me. I am CEO here – Aunt has no say in this, and under the circumstances she would be stupid to fight to keep you on staff. Even if these poor girls choose not to make a complaint against you – and I would frankly advise them to – I can dismiss you on the basis of performance. Or you can resign, take a package, and leave quietly and still be able to use the resources of the spa and club in future. But let me tell you now Edward, if you want to continue to be welcome here, you’d be well advised to steer clear of ANY further advances on the staff. I will not hesitate to have you escorted from the premises otherwise.”

Esther hid her shaking hands under her desk and managed to keep her face impassive and calm throughout this interview. But Edward, seeing that he had no professional leverage to use against his sister resorted instinctively to his personal leverage.

“Fine. I’ll resign. But how dare you act as though I am some kind of sleezy reprobate when the entire staff knows how you’ve been carrying on with George Babington all week. Every night shagging him in his hotel room? Really Esther, I wouldn’t have expected you to be so easy. Aunt will find your behaviour very disappointing.”

Esther sighed, she could have predicted that he would go running to Aunt Denham and resort to slut-shaming her; she also knew somewhere in the back of her head that the fact that George was a viscount would be enough to quiet their aunt. All of a sudden, Esther realised that nothing he could say would make her ashamed of the time she’d spent with Babington. 

“I think it’s time for you to go now, Edward. As I said, Katherine will be in touch.”

Edward’s threats had fallen flat, but he knew his sister almost better than anyone and he had one last emotional grenade to throw. He looked at her for a minute silently and then burst out in an unpleasant laugh.

“Oh, poor Esther. You have feelings for him!”

She looked up unable to hide a look in her eye that Edward could read like a book.

“He’ll never really love you – you know that, don’t you? He doesn’t even remember what happened before! You’re just a passing fancy and nothing more, just like the last time.”

Edward left, slamming the door behind him, and after a few minutes Alex knocked quietly and opened the door at her voice.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Esther had her back to him, but she turned around now, her face an impassive but beautiful mask and said firmly.

“Yes. I am fine. It was hard, but necessary. Alex, if you’re interested – and I think you are – I would like to offer you the position of Assistant General Manager. Katherine will send over the necessary paperwork. In fact, please get her on the phone now. I need to discuss HR changes and Edward’s resignation, effective immediately.” 

Alex smiled and nodded. But as he turned to go Esther stopped him.

“Oh and Alex, I had a reservation tonight in the restaurant for 7:30 with Lord Babington. Please would you cancel that and leave him a message to let him know that I won’t be able to make it tonight. I have to go away unexpectedly on business.”

Alex frowned slightly, but then nodded slowly.

“I’ll handle it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> office Esther  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/305611524720029833/


	12. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney and Charlotte try to be friends...

The Thursday and Friday after Henry’s accident were quiet in Trafalgar House. Charlotte continued to sketch in Tom’s study in the mornings and returned to her flat to write in the afternoon. Sidney too, when he wasn’t meeting with Babington at the site, had stationed himself to work at the kitchen table so that he could be around to stay with Henry when Tom and Marion had to take the girls out to their various activities. Henry slept a lot and complained that his arm hurt, but he was doing fine otherwise. 

Sidney generally left Charlotte to her sketching all morning, only checking in on her once or twice to ask if she wanted a cup of tea or needed anything. She always seemed pleased to hear his voice at the doorway, turning around to face him with a smile on her face, and it made him happy that their tentative steps towards being friendly were going so well. He didn’t want anything to ruin it and so despite rather longing to sit in the study and chat with her while she worked, he resisted. Anyhow, he really did have a lot of work to do and knew it would be far too easy to get distracted by her. 

In fact, Charlotte felt a little disappointed every time he retreated to the kitchen. Now that they were trying to be friends, she was interested in talking to him a bit more about his life, and his work, and his interests. They had never really had a proper conversation and every good thing she knew about him, she had learned second-hand. She was really quite eager to get to know him better and hoped there would be an opportunity before he went back to London on Sunday. She resisted coming to sit at the kitchen table to chat with him, however, fearful of being a pest while he was working, as she could often hear him pacing up and down the hallway while on a call or in a meeting. 

Babington headed back to London early Saturday morning, and Sidney saw an opportunity to help Tom and Marion out, spend some quality time with his nieces and with Arthur and Georgiana, and also to get to know Charlotte a bit better. He proposed that they all take the girls to one of the more secluded beaches for the day for some swimming and a picnic. 

Georgiana was still avoiding him, and he wanted a chance to repair their relationship too. She had been cold and distant since their uncomfortable conversation in the Spring when he had insisted, falling just short of issuing an order, that she stay in Sanditon for the summer. He had never been so authoritative with her before and she had sensed that there was something more behind it, but as he wouldn’t say what it was Georgie retreated into a somewhat sulky silence determined to ignore him all summer. Sulking was not her style, and she would have usually pushed harder to get what she wanted, but Georgie had her own reasons for not pressing the subject too far: she really didn’t want Sidney to start questioning why she was suddenly so intent upon going to Lagos this summer when she had never really cared either way before.

They took the public path that stretched up from the town over the white cliffs and then back through a wooded area and near the river towards a fairly secluded sandy beach that the Parkers had gone to as children and which was popular with local families. It was already a hot day and the beach was busy at ten in the morning, but they found a good spot to spread out their blankets and the children’s buckets and spades. Sidney stole another glance at Charlotte from behind his Wayfarers. He had been looking at her all morning while she walked ahead of him on the path, holding Alicia’s hand and listening patiently as the girl nattered on about the ancient Egyptians. Her wavy long dark hair was tied up off her neck in one of her signature low messy buns and she was wearing a bohemian, flowy white dress with sandals. When the sun shone from a certain direction, he could see through her dress that she had on a dark green bikini underneath, and it fascinated him. When they reached the beach and set up, everyone stripped down to their swimsuits; Charlotte, Georgiana and the girls ran down the beach and jumped directly into the water. 

Sidney sat back on the blanket and gave a low groan. He rubbed his face almost wishing he could rub the sight of her standing dripping wet in the sea out of his eyes.

“You okay Sidney?” asked Arthur concerned.

“What? Oh yeah. Just a hard week at work that’s all.” Sidney said casually. “Tired.”

“And I am well and truly hungover. A bunch of us were out in town last night until 3am last night and I am shattered too.”

“God Arthur, I don’t know how you and Georgie even find the places to go to out here, never mind the energy!”

“Yeah, well you work too hard. I am not surprised you don’t remember what it was like to be young, Sid. I plan to enjoy it as long as possible, but first I am going to nap.” 

Arthur lay back on the blanket and tipped his straw hat over his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately. Sidney smiled down at his little brother. He worried about Arthur’s drinking sometimes, but generally speaking he was glad he was so carefree. Oh yes, he certainly did remember what it was to be that age, but so much of it had been tainted by the sad memory of their parents’ deaths, of Eliza, and his behavior afterwards that he didn’t really like to think about most of it. 

Charlotte was walking up the beach towards them now with the girls, and looking at her in that bikini Sidney thought his brain might explode. What was happening to him? He refused to jump around her like a lusty teenager. “Be cool you fucking idiot!” he told himself sternly. “You’ve only just started to be friends. Don’t ruin things by making a move on her. You know you’d only screw it up and she deserves more than anything you can offer – even if she was interested.”

He came forward and playfully snatched the girls up under his arms. Swinging Jenny easily onto his shoulders and then settling down with them to build sandcastles, well away from Charlotte’s distracting presence. 

The rest of the day on the beach passed peacefully. They had their picnic lunch, built sandcastles, dozed and swam until the cliffs began to cast shadows across the beach. 

Georgiana had mostly ignored Sidney and had focused either on chatting with Charlotte or Arthur or on playing with the kids; when she wasn’t swimming, she seemed glued to her phone and was continually smiling to herself and writing text messages. But Sidney was happy to see that, even if she was still angry with him, she had at least found a friend and confidante in Charlotte. 

Charlotte and Sidney said little to each other too, but there was a general feeling of ease and friendliness between them and when their eyes met Charlotte felt a warm tingling inside of her. Sidney was mostly engaged with keeping Alicia and Jenny happy, and it was nice to see how sweet and funny he was with them, chatting for ages about their little concerns and asking serious questions to show he was actually listening. Charlotte tried hard to concentrate on her book, but behind her sunglasses her eyes kept wandering over to his back as he lay on his side in the sand a few metres in front of her with the kids. She admired the rippling muscles in his arms and shoulders, running down his spine and curving towards the waistband of his swim trunks and sighed quietly. What would it be like to run her hands across them and down around his waist? Ever since she had seen him, all of him, at the cove such thoughts had intruded on her mind regularly. What on earth was wrong with her? Maybe Esther was right, she really did need to get back out there. But she still didn’t understand what was going on. It was not as if he was the only good-looking guy she’d ever known. He had a girlfriend! And even if he didn’t, he would probably not be interested in her, or only for something casual. It would be a very bad idea to get involved with someone like Sidney Parker – they inhabited completely different worlds. And yet, she found she could barely tear her eyes away from him this afternoon.

They all walked home together, content and calm, with the sky behind them a blaze of purple and orange. Sidney carried a sleeping Jenny in his arms, Georgiana held Alicia’s hand, and they all made their way back through the quiet woods that only a few months ago had been covered with bluebells. When they reached Trafalgar House, Sidney paused, he didn’t really want the day to end. He had concentrated so hard on not being attracted to Charlotte that he hadn’t really spoken to her and the whole point had been to get to know her a bit better. He was contemplating whether it was a good idea to ask if she wanted to have a drink with him, when Arthur suddenly said,

“Should we drop the kids off at home and get a pint at the Crowne?”

Charlotte and Sidney mumbled their assent, but Georgiana looked startled.

“Uhhh. Actually, guys I am going to pass. I am exhausted from last night, and I promised to ring a friend tonight. I’ll just grab something from the kitchen and turn in super early. Come on Alicia, let’s find mummy and daddy. Bye guys!”

Before anyone could respond Georgie waved and she and Alicia ran in through the front door, closing it behind them. 

“Right, I’ll bring Jenny in and meet you in a few minutes. Get me a pint will you, Arthur.” 

Sidney’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending a bit more time with Charlotte.

When he arrived at the Crowne, he immediately spotted her alone at the table in the corner staring pensively into her pint, and Arthur at the bar flirting with a handsome man wearing tight jeans.

“Arthur abandoned you already has he?” 

Sidney said as he slipped onto the bench beside her and picked up his waiting pint. Charlotte looked up startled and smiled at him.

“Yes, he went back to get his drink and he appears to have been delayed on the return.”

Sidney chuckled and looked over at his brother indulgently.

“Arthur does have a weak spot for Callum Greene. Always has done. Nothing to be done about it, I’m afraid. Looks like it’s just you and me for a while at least.” 

He looked at her rather seriously and there was a silence. Both were acutely aware that Sidney’s knee was touching her thigh and they were momentarily unable to think of anything else to say. It struck her that in a way her active dislike had been far more comfortable than the disquiet of a growing attraction to someone that her brain said was all wrong for her. The top four buttons of his linen shirt were undone, and she was uncommonly distracted by the hair on his chest and her overwhelming desire to run her hands through it.

“So, you’re heading back to London tomorrow.” 

“Yeah. Early, unfortunately.”

“I’m sure you want to get back to your office,” she paused a moment “…and to your girlfriend.”

Sidney looked surprised, and for a moment he had no idea what she was talking about. Then he realised that he had brought Elise to the party and she would have no way of knowing that they had ended things. He was glad she had brought it up; for some reason he wanted to make things very clear.

“Oh Elise!” he said. “No, that ended weeks ago. It wasn’t ever very serious anyhow and we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere. It was a quite businesslike ending really.”

Charlotte looked at him with a slight frown between her eyes. What he said simultaneously elated and disturbed her. She could admit to herself that she was glad he was single, but she was also rather disturbed at how he had so casually described it as “not very serious,” “not going anywhere,” and “businesslike.” She thought back to what Georgiana had told her about his past – if he really was an emotional husk, he had probably no problems attracting women and then dropping them once he was bored. She had no intention of being messed around by him, no matter how much attraction she was starting to feel.

“Sounds convenient.” She said quietly, looking back at her drink.

Sidney sensed that had not gone as well as he had hoped. She seemed to read something into his words that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. After another awkward pause, he said something he’d been wanting to tell her for a few days:

“I hope you don’t mind, but I snuck a peek at some of your drawings the other day. They’re really beautiful, and sensitively drawn. I didn’t know you were an artist too! You know, I grew up surrounded by all those plaster casts and grisaille and stucco lunettes, but I don’t think I ever really “saw” them – how wonderful they are – until I looked at your sketches.”

Charlotte blushed and said teasingly,

“That’s a particularly nice compliment.” 

“Yes. I am capable of saying something nice occasionally. Especially when I mean it.”

They smiled at each other and found from there that the conversation flowed rather more easily. Sidney drew Charlotte into detailing how her work was going and outlining her new ideas for a second book and monograph on Sanditon and Trafalgar House. And Charlotte was finally able to ask Sidney about his work on the Art and Artefact Repatriation Committee. She was fascinated by the change in him as he spoke. He was suddenly less reserved and controlled, and he spoke with passion and eloquence about what he hoped to achieve in the future both on the commission and in the gallery. He found himself telling her about the plans for Whytcliffe and from there about how much he had loved playing in the orchards and fields there as a child. In fact, he had bought a small, remote outbuilding on the land from his siblings some years ago that had belonged to a long-demolished tenant farmhouse and his dream was one day to renovate it thoroughly and live there part of the time.  
She talked then about her parents and her siblings, particularly her sister Alison and brother Eddie, and about the family’s struggles over the past years with the farm. They were so engrossed in their conversation that neither realised how they had moved unconsciously toward each other. Sidney’s arm was thrown across the back of the bench they were both sitting on and Charlotte was resting her face on her hand, leaning towards him listening intently and unconsciously biting her lip in so alluring a way that he had to work hard not to stare. The conversation then moved to Georgiana’s plans after she finished her MA, and Sidney said rather sadly,

“Georgiana’s didn’t really speak to me today. She’s clearly still pretty angry with me about this summer. I guess she told you about that?” 

Charlotte didn’t bother to pretend that she didn’t know what he was talking about, and rather heroically resisted the urge to say that she didn’t blame Georgie after how he had behaved, instead murmuring politely.

“Well. I’m sure you’ll find a way to make amends.”

“I hope so.” Sidney hesitated, there was something he wanted to ask her, and he wasn’t sure if he should. He took a sip of his pint and setting it back down on the table he decided to go for it 

“Listen, I wanted to ask if you would keep an eye on her while you’re here.”

Charlotte drew back surprised and suddenly aware of how close they had become.

“Sidney, she’s a grown woman! She doesn’t need a babysitter.”

“No, no, I meant more that… she’s really been more sheltered than she seems, and I know there’s something going on that she doesn’t want me to know about…”

“I hope you’re not asking me to spy on her!”

“Of course not!” he said. Why did Charlotte always seem to want to think the worst of him? But he didn’t want to argue with her just now and managed to say more calmly

“I know she doesn’t seem it, but she’s still young and impetuous and … people have tried to take advantage of her in the past. I just think she likes you and trusts you, and she might need a bit of guidance if she confides in you. What I mean is, I know you would give her good advice.” 

Charlotte looked up at him earnestly, her eyes searching his for a moment, and Sidney’s heart skipped a beat.

“I assumed that you’d see me as a bad influence.” 

He smiled sheepishly and tilted his head, trying not to look at her beautiful lips, which he suddenly wanted quite desperately to kiss.

“Is it conceivable that we’ve had each other wrong?”

Charlotte looked down for a moment and he could see the corner of her tanned cheeks flush.

But there was no time to respond: Arthur and his friend joined them at that very moment, laughing and joking loudly until everyone went their separate ways a few hours later. Hoping to miss the worst of the traffic, Sidney was already on the road to London at daybreak, but the whole drive home he was wondering when he could next make it back to Sanditon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte outfit
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477828345811/
> 
> Sidney at the pub
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/AfKYaEqOLDIdtF2925gN5LVBmdN0lFTf-rmOBs9GZyf3s9RhzpWE3Cw/


	13. Messages

Babington: I wish you had at least rung me yourself instead of getting your assistant to do it.

Babington: Is that all then? No more contact?

Babington : I need to talk to you.

Esther: Please Babington. Surely you can see that taking this any further would be an unmitigated disaster. Let’s leave it where it is before anything gets broken. You’ll find someone else to warm your bed before too long.

Babington: Is that really what you think of me? Do you honestly think that’s all this is? 

Esther: Yes, and I think you do too if you’re honest.

No sooner had she typed these words and sent them, then her phone began to ring; it was Babington. Esther sat in her car staring at his name on the screen. Her hands shook as her finger hovered over the answer button: she so desperately wanted to pick up, but Edward’s words from earlier were still on her mind, and she knew that hearing Babington’s deep and reassuring voice reasoning with her would weaken her resolve. Edward had reminded her of some important things and although she knew that she should never let him have this much power over her thoughts, she also knew that, ultimately, he was right. She wasn’t really cut out for a relationship anyhow. The few times she had attempted it in the past ten years had been disastrous and now that there was so much more at stake, she just found herself paralysed, and she hated the feeling. With an anguished sob she quickly swiped “ignore” and turned her phone off for good measure. Esther dropped it like a hot coal into the passenger seat, started her car, and sped off down the country road.

***

Esther had sent Charlotte a message letting her know that she had gone to Exeter unexpectedly to visit a friend, and in the intervening week Charlotte spent almost every evening with Georgiana and Arthur. Their energy was boundless, and she found herself exploring every bar, pub and live music night in Sanditon and its surrounding area with them night after night, often not getting home until the early hours and finding that the next day passed in a blur with little to no work being completed. In truth, Charlotte was beginning to reach the limits of her ability to keep up with the pair, and she was getting very little work done. 

She had also reached the limits of the archive in Trafalgar House, and had a book full of sketches and copious notes on the design and decoration of house as well as its influences to prove it. There was a huge amount of information on the Parker family and on the original owner and builder of Trafalgar House – Tom Parker. Although family lore and all the drawings seemed to indicate that Tom Parker had not only paid for but also designed Trafalgar House, Charlotte was beginning to suspect that perhaps the famous James Stringer might have been more involved in the building’s conception and design than anyone had previously discovered. It was clear that Stringer, and possibly also his father – a stone mason – had both been working on other projects for the Parkers at that time, and Charlotte was almost certain that Trafalgar House might have even been James Stringer’s first work. Her theory was that because he would have been just starting out he most likely let his over-eager patron take most of the credit for the building. All she needed now was proof, and although she had turned up some interesting information about the Parkers, including about the mysterious original Sidney Parker, she had not yet found anything solid that she could use to connect Stringer to the design of the house itself. 

Charlotte had already plotted out down to the chapter the monograph on Trafalgar House that she planned to write as her second book. But she knew that it would have a great deal more impact if she could prove that it had been Stringer’s first unknown project and not just a rich speculator’s flight of fancy.

It was with this in mind that Charlotte considered messaging Sidney. She had asked Marion for his email address and had been given his mobile number instead, as Marion thought Charlotte would get a more immediate reply if she messaged him directly. Charlotte was nervous. After all, the first evening she had met him he had referred her quite firmly to Tom if she needed help with the London papers. What had really changed since then other than her feelings? Charlotte spent quite a lot of time formulating various messages to him – more time than she would have ever liked to admit, even to herself. In the end, their exchange went like this:

077752937856: Hi Sidney, this is Charlotte Heywood. Marion thought a message would be the best way to get hold of you. I am hoping to come down to London sometime this week or next to have a look at the Parker archives at Bedford Place, if possible. If that isn’t convenient for you, any other time will do just as well – I am quite flexible. Otherwise, I can wait until Tom is free to help me. Please do let me know what’s possible. Many thanks!

Sidney’s reply came almost immediately.

Sidney Parker: Hi Charlotte. Of course. You’re welcome to go through it all. Are you free tomorrow?

Charlotte Heywood: Yes. I can do that.

Sidney Parker: Great. Come by the gallery when you get into the city tomorrow morning, and I will take you over to the house and show you what we have. Best to take the 8 am train if you want to miss the worst of the crowds but still have enough time in the city.

Charlotte Heywood: Thanks! I don't want you to go to any trouble.

Sidney Parker: It's no trouble. I am happy to help.

Charlotte Heywood: I really appreciate this. See you tomorrow. 

Sidney Parker: Looking forward to it.

Charlotte threw her phone away from her almost in relief and put her hands over her face to hide her smile, even though there was no one around to witness it. She felt almost like a giddy schoolgirl at the thought of seeing Sidney and that he was “looking forward” to seeing her. Ever since their day on the beach and conversation in the pub she had thought about him a bit more than was healthy. He had been so gentle and warm...possibly even a little bit more than friendly, if she had read some of the signals right. She had really judged him harshly at first, but maybe he was a lot more than just a charming, corporate, rich guy who could flirt with anyone – he was really intelligent, and he seemed to care about the world and had a lot to contribute, maybe it was worth getting to know him better. Charlotte did a lot of reasoning in her head, his messages had not been anything special, but what it boiled down to was that she was excited to see him again.

Sidney sat back in his chair and spun around so that his back was to the door of his office. Facing the wall of books that was usually behind him he let his face break into a boyish grin of delight. Charlotte was actually coming here tomorrow. It had been an utter surprise to see her message and he had wasted no time in making it clear that he would help her with her work. Had he been too over-eager? Did she notice? She didn’t have to know that he usually let his assistant handle such requests, from initial contact through to actually letting people into the house and setting them up in the study. He just knew that he wanted to handle this personally. He had thought about her a lot after leaving Sanditon, and he definitely felt some kind of connection with her. In the short time that Arthur was occupied at the bar, Sidney had talked to Charlotte about things that he usually didn’t mention outside of his family. He hadn’t intended to, he’d intended to only ask about her work, but somehow her gentle, alert presence had drawn out so much more. He jumped up from his desk and went over to where his assistant usually sat out in the corridor.

“Susanna, other than the meeting with Susan et al. in the morning, do I have anything else pressing tomorrow?”

“Umm, let me see. Your interview with The Guardian has been moved to Thursday and you have a meeting at the Tate on Friday. Documenta organisers wanted to have a quick word about the installation that they’re planning for the Fridericianum at some point tomorrow. Oh and John Prescott did want you to have lunch with him this week, he said last minute is fine – I thought maybe tomorrow would work while you’re in town…”

“No, no. Put him off to next week if possible. Listen, don’t book anything in for tomorrow and let me ring Ulricke at Documenta before the meeting to talk her through my concept. I am going to be in and out of the gallery all day tomorrow, so if anyone really needs me and it’s not something Babs or Otis can handle you can contact me on my mobile.”

“Sure”

“Thanks Susanna”

Sidney almost skipped back into his office. Susanna watched him go and then exchanged a bemused smirk with her colleague Joseph – Babington’s assistant – before shaking her head slightly and turning her attention back to her work.


	14. London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've packed a lot of stuff in this one...  
> We're still burning slowly here.

The forecast had said it would be a hot day, and when Charlotte stepped off the train at Victoria Station at 9:45 the next morning it was already quite warm. London was teeming with sweaty, overheated, anxious people rushing like ants in all directions to their offices, reminding Charlotte what she loved and hated about the city in almost equal measure. Suddenly it hit her that she would be living here again when she took up her new position at Birkbeck in September, and she hadn’t even started to look for a place to live yet. In truth, although she loved the city, she also was a bit freaked out about living there with all the stresses and responsibilities of money and commuting that seemed to be part of London life these days. Living in a shared flat near London Fields as she had done as a student in her early twenties was completely out of the question now: she needed quiet and privacy and though she loved the area around Broadway Market, it was so gentrified that she could never afford a decent flat there on her own. She was starting to entertain the idea of staying in Sanditon and commuting into London for her lectures, at least until she found a suitable place. 

Checking her watch and deciding that she had plenty of time for the 30 min walk to Soho where Sidney’s gallery was located, she started on her way, taking the pleasantest route through St James’s Park. After a refreshing walk, Charlotte reached the gallery. It was in a huge Victorian warehouse renovated by a prominent architect. As it was still early, she was buzzed in and met at the door by a polished young woman who explained that Sidney was still in a meeting but that she was welcome to wait in his office. Charlotte chose to have a look around the exhibition spaces instead. The building was nothing special in and of itself, but it had been elevated by the sensitivity of its restoration, which created the iconic flexible white cube spaces needed for continually changing exhibitions whilst also retaining just enough original Victorian detail and ornament for interest. It was also huge; and Charlotte soon disappeared into its rolling, white vastness, strolling quietly through the suite of church-quiet rooms and gazing at the Gerhard Richter canvases that were currently on display. 

Sidney had started his day early too. Generally speaking, he was an early riser but this morning he was out of bed even earlier than usual, had gone for his daily run and was at his desk and making international calls by 7:30. He needed to get as much done as possible before the 9:30 Partners’ meeting and after that he wanted to be more or less free to help Charlotte if she needed. 

Today more than ever Sidney was grateful that Susan preferred to hold their biweekly meetings as early as possible and that she never let them drag on any longer than necessary. After her many years in New York, there was nothing she hated more than time wasting and talking points. As a result, Sidney, Babington and Otis were able to fairly efficiently resolve and agree on action for everything on the agenda this morning. In addition to discussing recent major sales and exhibitions, they also exchanged and discussed notes on Ben’s preliminary plans for the Whytcliffe project and ran through the list of scheduled contacts, sites and meetings for Otis’s three-week scouting trip to Lagos. 

Otis Molyneaux had joined WBP as its first Chief Operations Officer three years ago and immediately made himself indispensable, quickly grasping the gallery’s unique vision, and restructuring efficiently to find solutions to problems that had plagued them for a few years, earning the respect of their roster of international employees and artists in the process. Otis was young, though, very young – only 28 when they hired him. After completing his degree in economics at LSE he co-founded a successful tech startup and had already built up an impressive network of contacts by the time he sold his company and was looking for a new challenge. Although his previous experience had been in tech, his breadth of knowledge and enthusiasm for art had surprised and delighted all of them. His youth provided fresh new insights into communities and into developing cultural and technological shifts that the others would have otherwise had no access to or not recognised. The executive recruiter had of course assured them that Otis was potentially a great fit for their organization, but Sidney and Babington, though very impressed by his CV, were initially worried about his age and inexperience in the art world; Susan, however, was captivated by him in interview, and she insisted on hiring him virtually on the spot – as ever, she was not wrong. It was no exaggeration to say that he had transformed their gallery – both in the breadth and diversity of the people who now worked for them and in their systems of hiring and organization. They could not do without him now, both as a colleague and as a friend, and they fully expected to make him a partner in a few more years. 

Susan ended the meeting in her inimitable way by simply standing up when she felt everything of importance had been dealt with. Everyone quickly followed suit and as she paused to sweep an invisible speck of dust from her immaculate bespoke black trouser suit she looked up and peered astutely at Babington and Sidney:

“What’s got into you two today?”

Both looked confused, and Otis swallowed a laugh at Susan’s forthrightness, immediately drawing her attention back to him.

“Come on Otis, you know what I mean, look at them: George is completely flat this morning and Sidney can barely keep still. What’s going on? I thought last week at Whytcliffe was a success.”

Sidney, hoping to save Babington more exposure to Susan’s unflinching cross-examination, moved everyone towards the doorway saying,

“Just readjusting to life in London after a week of sunshine by the sea.”

Susan seemed unconvinced, but as her forensic attention was thankfully drawn away by her buzzing phone, she moved swiftly down the corridor with her PA trotting faithfully behind her.

Babington also immediately turned his attention to his phone, and nodding at the other two he moved silently towards his office and shut the door.

Otis turned back to Sidney

“Seriously though Sid, is something wrong? George has been really off all week, not at all his cheerful self. Anything I should know about?”

Sidney shrugged and frowned a bit at Babington’s closed door.

“He’ll be all right after a while. Relationship troubles.”

Otis nodded and looked sympathetic. As he turned to go back to his office, Susanna approached to let Sidney know that Charlotte Heywood had arrived and was waiting for him in the galleries. Otis looked back at him curiously. 

“Is that the architectural historian who’s living in Sanditon?”

“Uh, yes, that’s the one.” Sidney said as casually as he could, looking at his phone to feign indifference. “She’s come into London to have a look at the archives at Bedford Square. Have I mentioned her to you?”

Otis looked nonchalant, and suddenly aware of the time and that he had a phone call to make, he turned to head back to his office.

“Yeah, yeah. You must have. See you later, Sid.” 

Sidney quickly checked his calls with Susanna and then went in search of Charlotte. He found her deep in the galleries not looking in awe at the paintings as he expected but rather taking photos with her iPhone of the barley-sugar cast iron columns in the gallery. He smiled and paused a minute to take her in before he approached. She wore a long navy skirt that swayed gently when she moved, a pair of espadrille wedges, and a tucked in white silk shell top that showed off her toned arms which were raised to take the photo and a healthy but entirely appropriate portion of her smooth tanned back, which was turned and exposed to him. In this moment to him, she was freshness personified. 

At the sound of his footsteps behind her Charlotte turned and smiled, her hair fell in gentle waves around her face and her cheeks and lips were flushed but as usual she wore no discernable make-up. Their greeting was warm; Sidney paused a half a second before leaning in to give her the European-style double kiss of greeting that he gave to all friends and acquaintances. She put her hand on his shoulder and returned the gesture easily and he took in her unmistakable scent before quickly moving back as she dropped her arm.

“Thanks so much, Sidney. I really appreciate your taking the time to help me with this. I really don’t want to put you out. I know you’re busy.”

“You’re not putting me out at all. There really couldn’t be a better day, actually. I am working remotely today – barring an emergency.” This was a bit of a lie as he had more or less cleared his schedule to spend the day with her, but she didn’t need to know that.

At that moment they were interrupted by the echo of heels moving assertively through the gallery. Susan was on her way out and noticing the two of them standing in the corner moved in their direction.

“Sidney, I forgot to mention that Alice and I will be in Hong Kong tomorrow. I thought I’d check in on the gallery on our way to Melbourne. I’ve just asked Susanna to let them know… ”

She stopped and noticed Charlotte, and in her direct fashion extended her hand and said

“Have we met? You look familiar. Susan Worcester. You were at the Investors’ weekend party I believe.”

As Charlotte took Susan’s hand and shook it firmly, she thought to herself that she had never seen such an extraordinarily chic woman. Even in this heat Susan looked entirely cool and collected in heels and a pristine slim cut black trouser suit that was almost like a dinner jacket. She wore a crisp white blouse underneath that was unbuttoned to her sternum to expose a thick gold chain with a heavy horn-like pendant and no hint of a bra; her greying hair was scraped back into a low clip and she wore a slick of bright red lipstick. She was absolutely mesmerizing.

“How do you do. Charlotte Heywood. Yes, I was there but we didn’t meet.” 

“Charlotte is writing a book on Regency seaside architecture, and we’re helping her with access to the family archives,” said Sidney.

Susan looked rather searchingly at him for a moment, as though suddenly everything had become very clear.

“Yes. I imagine you are very helpful, Sidney. Well, happy researching Charlotte. I hope to see you again sometime.” 

Charlotte and Sidney left the gallery together shortly after Susan and caught a black cab on Regent Street to take them to Bedford Square. They had been chatting amicably about the Richter exhibition and about the pared-back utilitarian aesthetic of Victorian industrial architecture, until finding themselves side-by-side in the taxi with Charlotte’s rather large leather tote bag between them, they both suddenly fell silent. The temperature had risen significantly outside while they were in the air-conditioned gallery, and Sidney loosened and then took off his tie, stuffing it in his pocket and running his fingers through his short curling brown hair. 

Charlotte was suddenly aware of a deliciously illicit feeling and the thought that to outsiders, the taxi driver, or maybe even to Sidney’s co-workers, they looked like lovers who were sneaking off to have sex in the middle of the day. She blushed at the thought. “This is crazy,” she rebuked herself. “You are going to look at some old papers for your book. Why does this feel so dangerous?”

Sidney thoughts were running along similar lines, and he hoped to god that Charlotte didn’t think that he was trying to seduce her. Why hadn’t he thought before of how it might look? He had been so caught up in wanting to spend time with her and get to know her that he had forgotten that other people might get a different notion. He didn’t know why, but somehow it mattered a great deal that people didn’t think that of Charlotte, not because he didn’t secretly enjoy the fantasy of the idea but because it was different somehow. 

Sidney opened the front door to the house on Bedford Square, typed in the security code on the alarm pad and invited her in. The house was entirely as she had imagined it: a smart Georgian house that had originally been built for the wealthy upper-middle classes and was now some of the city’s most valuable real estate. It was one of the very few on the square that was still used as a private residence, the rest had long been converted into offices or belonged to the universities, which was probably why it had retained so many of its original details. She noted the fine plaster ceilings and some good friezes as well as two unusual curved doors off the entrance way, one of which led to the study which had been given over entirely to the chaos of the Parker archive.

Sidney opened the door to the study and let her go through.

“Well, here it is. I did warn you that nothing, other than the original drawings, has been catalogued. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember. Even when were kids. We don't use the room, as you can see.”

Charlotte looked around her in shock and excitement. The room was small; it had two narrow sash windows which looked into a courtyard that was flagged with its original York stones, and had a handsome original marble fire surround. It was panelled in dark wood and was lined with bookcases of a Victorian date also in dark wood. But most striking was that it was full to overflowing with stacks of books, papers, leather portfolios, also stuffed full of papers, and there was no order to speak of.

As Charlotte remained silent, Sidney continued,

“I don’t usually let scholars in here. Since they almost always just want to look at Stringer’s drawings anyhow, I just have them laid out in the drawing room table for them to look at properly. I think we’re going to donate them to the British Library this year. They’d be better cared for there and none of us really have the time or the inclination to manage it the way pa did.”

Charlotte turned to him, her eyes bright and wide.

“Sidney, you are sitting on a treasure trove here. I don't think anyone knows that this even exists. God knows what’s here…”

She stepped forward and gently opened one of the portfolios on the table in front of her.

“I am a bit overwhelmed. I don’t even know where to start.”

Sidney chuckled and came to stand beside her.

“Well sit down first, and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.” He pulled out a chair for her.

“I have to make a few phone calls and listen in on a meeting, but I’ll be in the house. If you need anything – just shout out.”

He slipped out of the room and watched her sit down slowly in the chair provided. He was aware that she had somehow forgotten all about him and was already thinking quite intensely about her work and he smiled to himself, satisfied that he was able to do this for her.

When he came back fifteen minutes later with her tea, he saw that Charlotte had tied her hair up and had her glasses on. Her computer was open in front of her and she was typing furiously while looking at some papers that she had laid out carefully in front of her. He placed the cup of tea quietly on a small table nearby away from the papers and turned to leave her to work in peace.

Charlotte worked for almost 4 hours, before she realised that she was hungry and had not eaten. She'd found a few interesting leads and had transcribed some of the documents but had also taken a great many photos of documents to peruse at her leisure later. So much of it detailed Stringer’s work in Sanditon. The materials he used, the organization of the labor, descriptions, plans and agreements made for future projects. Charlotte was more and more convinced that she was putting together a solid argument for the premise of her second book. There also seemed to be quite a few struggles around payment for commissioned work from Tom Parker. She had found an interesting reference to drawings for a pagoda that Tom Parker had commissioned from Stringer, but it seemed to have gone nowhere. Perhaps this was a prototype for the later pagoda that would go on to make Stringer’s name?

She stood up slowly and put her glasses on the table rubbing the bridge of her nose. She had actually forgotten all about Sidney, but now she was wondering where he was; she wanted to tell him about what she had found. She didn’t want to snoop or disturb him if he was on a call, but she was really quite ravenously hungry and could smell something cooking. Following the smell down the corridor to where she assumed the kitchen was located, Charlotte was just about to turn the door handle when it flew open and she collided with Sidney. His hands went immediately to her waist to steady her and hers flew up to his chest and they stood there for a moment laughing and apologising and explaining before Sidney realised he was still holding her and they both jumped back.

“Sorry, I just finished a few calls and realised I was starving and thought you must be too, so I made lunch.”

“You really didn’t have to do that! You’ve done so much already. I was just going to slip out and get a sandwich.”

“Sorry Charlotte, that’s not allowed for guests to this house. You may not believe it, but I’m quite a good cook – and it’s already made.”

He gestured to the set kitchen table and she smiled at him, vaguely aware that she was still tingling from the feel of his hard chest pressed up under her hands and both his hands on her waist. She glanced up at him. He had taken his suit jacket off and his pristine white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned slightly down from the collar to reveal glimpses of the golden skin and chest hair beneath and he had a dish towel flung across his shoulder. He is magnificent, she thought. 

She sat down.

“That’s not pasta alla gricia is it?”

“It is!”

“I haven’t had that in ages. I loved it when I lived in Rome! My flatmates always made it.”

“I always have a bit of pecorino and guanciale handy just in case I want to make it. It’s fast and easy.” 

He said smiling.

She wondered if he remembered that they had both spent their Erasmus year in Rome, something Mary had tried unsuccessfully to use as a conversation starter that first night they met. They sat down and Charlotte started eating immediately with real pleasure and enjoyment. She loved food, good food and Sidney had not lied about his skills as a cook.

“That is honestly delicious!! Just as I remember it. You didn’t lie. You are good in the kitchen.”

If this had been a date, Sidney would have made a flirtatious rejoinder that veered into slightly suggestive territory, and though the reflex was there he stopped himself and just let himself enjoy her enjoyment of his cooking. He liked her, and though of course he knew that he might want something more, the thought was still vaguely terrifying to him. His trust issues ran so deep that the bravest thing he could do at this moment was nothing at all. Right now it was enough somehow, just like this.

“Do all of you live here?”

“We all keep a few rooms here, but no, I also have a separate place and Arthur and Di have a flat in Islington. Actually, my house is up near Broadway Market. I bought it when I was really young with an inheritance from my grandfather, but it’s too big for just one person so I live on the main floor and rent out the upstairs as an apartment at the moment.”

“Really? I expected you to live somewhere closer to work. I lived in London Fields when I was a student. I love that part of Hackney, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but some of the best years of my life were spent there. It’s changed a lot though since I lived there in a shared house.”

“Tell me about it! I got a pretty good deal in 2005, but my girlfriend at the time was not so keen on the area so I tended to stay here when I was in the city, though even Bedford Square was not posh enough for her.” He said somewhat bitterly. 

There was a slightly awkward pause and Charlotte thought he must be speaking of the infamous Eliza. He seemed slightly sad somehow and she thought it best to change the subject.

“Well, I think this is a wonderful house. Thank you once again for everything today – I really made progress; I photographed loads of documents but there’s so much more to do. You really should hire someone just to catalogue this, even if it’s just simply by year – a student even.”

“You're right. I know we should. Maybe you can recommend one of your students next year. Would you show me what you’ve found?”

Charlotte was flattered that he was interested in her work, which she could acknowledge might seem a bit dry to non-specialists, and they went together to the study where she detailed some of her findings and showed him how certain documents went together and what they revealed. They stood rather close together and she reached across him a number of times to point out certain papers, her bare arm accidentally brushing against him more than once. Each time he felt an electric shock run through him and he found himself listening to her words but also trying to identify her unique scent. It was utterly indescribable, a mixture of warm almond oil and soap, meadow flowers and fresh air. Suddenly he felt completely overwhelmed by her. He wanted to grab her by the waist, pull her to him and kiss her hard, to be surrounded by her warmth and to feel her hands on his neck and in his hair. 

He stepped back from her abruptly and Charlotte paused. Was she boring him? She looked up at him and saw something in his eyes that she almost mistook for desire. For a moment she was tempted to kiss him, but her brain took over immediately and made her doubt the possibility that a man like this, who was attracted to the Elises and the Elizas of the world would have any serious interest in her. To hide her confusion, she looked down at her watch. 

“I probably won’t get much more done today so I should start thinking about getting the train home it will take a while to get down to Victoria from here during rush hour as well. Thank you so much for everything.”

Charlotte had already turned to start packing up her things and Sidney, bewildered and confused by the effect she had on him and by her uncertain reaction, was only certain that he didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. He pulled himself together.

“Ok. Well Let me come with you. I want to at least buy you a drink at my local before you catch your train. You deserve it after a hard day’s work.”

Charlotte hesitated.

“Come on.” 

It was almost a command, and she couldn’t resist him. They left Bedford Place together and moved in the direction of a pub on Lamb’s Conduit Street. 

The place was already packed with people and they had to make do with standing in a corner. Charlotte had her back to the wall and Sidney was stood leaning beside her. They talked easily about Sanditon, Georgie and his plans to come back down soon for his holiday in a few weeks if he could get away.

As Charlotte sipped her G&T and watched him talk, suddenly everything seemed to slide into place. It was fairly simple: she wanted him. She understood that better now, but the question was whether he wanted her too, and if he did would sex be enough for her. Surely if he was interested in anything, that was it, but Charlotte knew herself fairly well. Although she had had a few flings, they had always been very simple, more about scratching an itch, and she had never found it difficult to extricate herself. But In her heart she knew that intense sexual attraction, the kind she was starting to develop for Sidney, never came for her without other feelings of respect, interest, and intellectual stimulation, and the problem was that he had made it clear not only that he had problems with emotions and relationships, but also that he was probably not completely over his first great love, Eliza. If he was still letting that betrayal eat away at him almost 15 years later and letting it prevent him from opening up again, then Charlotte knew she would only be in for a brutal heartbreak. She was not averse to taking a chance in love, but in this case it was far too one-sided, too fool hardy from the outset, and ultimately she had a professional connection with his family that she needed to not screw up. She had no doubt that Sidney knew how to seduce, even in the most gentlemanly way possible, and she had fallen a bit under his spell today, but she just couldn’t risk falling any further. 

Before she could work through any more of these thoughts in her head, she heard a voice, and saw Sidney start and turn around to face a woman who threw her arm around his shoulders. She seemed like she had already had quite a few drinks.

“Sidney, fucking Parker! The handsomest man in London!” she said 

“Amanda! Surprised to see you here.” Sidney said somewhat wearily. 

“And who do you have here, Sidney? A new conquest?” Amanda slurred.

Sidney stiffened and looked absolutely mortified, but he managed to remain professional. Extricating himself from Amanda’s arm he said rather solemnly.

“Charlotte, this is Amanda Russell. Amanda’s an art critic for the Evening Standard. Amanda this is Charlotte Heywood. She’s an architectural historian who’s been working on my family’s archives to prepare her book for publication.”

He looked at Charlotte almost desperately, searching for understanding in her eyes, but their connection was broken and she would no longer look directly at him. Instead she finished her drink and said rather hurriedly,

“Lovely to meet you, Amanda. Look Sidney, I really need to get going now; I want to catch the next train. Thanks for the drink and for giving me access to the archives. It was extremely helpful. I really appreciate it.” She picked up her bag and started moving towards the door, but Sidney was right behind her.

He followed her out onto the street.

“Charlotte wait! God, I’m so sorry about that. Amanda’s all right really, just when she’s drunk she’s a bit of a big mouth and a gossip who gets off on making people feel uncomfortable. I’m absolutely mortified!”

Charlotte softened slightly.

“It’s OK. Don’t worry about it. But I really do need to head to the station now.” She flagged a taxi down almost immediately and as it pulled to the pavement she turned and saw Sidney’s concerned face. She took pity on him and putting a friendly hand on his arm said 

“Really. Don’t worry about it, I am not offended! Thanks again for everything today. Bye.” She slipped quickly into the cab and was gone before he could even say another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte's outfit  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477820844234/
> 
> Sidney at work  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477832369804/


	15. Enough!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has to get worse before it gets better I'm afraid...

Sidney spent the rest of the week turning over what had happened in his head. He could feel that his attraction to Charlotte was unusually strong, he loved to look at her and to listen to her, but she also slightly terrified him. She had an uncanny ability to see through him, to unsettle him, and to infuriate him, sometimes all at once. He wasn't even sure if she knew that she had that effect on him, but she was not the kind of woman he could be casually involved with – that much was clear. Being with her would inevitably mean really trying to be in a relationship again. It would mean being vulnerable and it would probably mean love, and he didn’t know if he was ready for that or even capable of it. Twice after Eliza he had started a promising relationship hoping that the dam inside him would break, but it just didn’t and he was left disappointed with himself, sorry for the pain he was causing, and dispirited. For the past five years he hadn’t even bothered trying anymore, preferring instead to focus on work and on having brief monogamous relationships of mutual convenience with a string of beautiful, successful, and undemanding woman. 

There was no question in his mind that Charlotte would not want such a thing: she was passionate, challenging, opinionated and intellectual. But despite his fear, he could not keep away from her. God knows he had tried, but always found himself drawn to her like a magnet, looking forward with nervous anticipation to each encounter and to the invigorating spark of energy and fire that she ignited in him. He wanted to take the time to know her better, and to let things develop slowly to give him a chance to think about what was happening. But Amanda’s drunken words had upset the delicate equilibrium they had established. He couldn’t stand that Charlotte might see all of his careful attempts to get to know her as an orchestrated seduction. By the end of the week, Sidney had come to a decision: he had to find a way to let Charlotte know about his growing feelings. However things turned out, whatever her reaction, he felt sure he could trust her. He was finished with being frozen at the emotional age of 21 where Eliza had left him.

Charlotte also thought a lot about what had happened in London, but the conclusions she reached were slightly different. Charlotte knew that men found her attractive, and she wasn’t insecure about her looks, but if Sidney’s type was someone willowy, cool, and blonde like Elise, then she knew she didn’t stand a real chance with him. Further, though it was probable that Amanda had been attempting a crass joke, the essence of what she said was surely true – Sidney was very handsome and he did seem to have a series of women coming in and out of his life. Though it was not generally talked about, she had heard in passing about his inability to commit to a relationship from his family and from Georgie. Only Marion seemed truly concerned about it, and even she had accepted that Sidney was not likely to have a serious partner again any time soon, if ever. No one ever bothered to set him up with eligible friends or people they knew – and there was surely a reason for that too. 

Though Charlotte was no longer in denial about her attraction to him, she had no reason to believe that his recent kindness towards her was anything more than the default behaviour of a man who knew almost instinctively how to charm and to attract women. Sidney was nothing if not a conundrum, and in her opinion a conundrum was dangerous in matters of the heart. A casual few months for him, might end up being devastating for her both emotionally and professionally. No, she thought pragmatically, the best thing to do now was to distance herself a bit in the hopes that her feelings would die down. 

***

The Saturday afternoon after Charlotte’s trip to London found her walking along the cliffs with Esther and Georgiana. The day had been cooler than the rest of the week and although it was warm enough for Charlotte to be wearing shorts, she was also glad of her oversized roll neck sweater when the wind lashed around them along the cliff top path. Both Esther and Georgiana had seemed a bit low recently and Charlotte proposed a long walk as a way of cheering them up a bit. That she might also need a bit of cheering up didn’t ever occur to her, but what did occur to her was that Sidney had asked her to watch out for Georgie. Charlotte’s heart fluttered at the memory of that conversation, but she felt she was getting much better at pushing thoughts of him out of her mind. In any case, looking out for Georgie as much as she was able was something she would have done anyhow. 

Most of the walk was conducted in companionable silence as all three women seemed to prefer the opportunity to think in peace and to watch the sunset over the horizon, but as they started back towards Sanditon and reached the quieter, warmer valley close to Denham House the wind died down and their conversation began again. There were a number of topics of discussion, but now somehow or other, they had got around to Sidney Parker.

“I haven’t had a chance to ask yet how London was, Charlotte? I heard you were in the gallery. What did you think of it?” said Georgiana. 

Charlotte replied with something polite but vague.

“And did you find what you needed at Bedford Square?” Georgie pressed on.

“Oh… yes. It was really good actually. None of the papers are organised, of course, but there’s loads there to work on and I found quite a few promising documents.”

“Sidney was helpful then?”

“Yes. He was great.”

Esther laughed.

“Did he try it on with you, Charlotte?”

Charlotte frowned,

“What?! No! Of course not – why would you say that Esther? It was all very professional!”

“Oh god, don’t take offence. I’m not really serious. He’s not a sleezebag who hits on everyone, he just happens to be charming without really trying that’s all: very courtly, very gentlemanly, very mysterious, and very alpha all at the same time. Very unreliable too! But women seem to eat it up. I can’t tell you how many he’s brought through Sanditon over the years: for the Investors weekend, the annual cricket match, the regatta, the WBP Christmas weekend … some of them come more than once but generally speaking it’s a different one each time – and they all really weirdly look like Eliza!”

“Seriously though, we’re all starting to think of him as a lost cause,” Georgiana added, nodding in agreement.

Charlotte tried to look indifferent, but Esther’s words made her really uncomfortable. Were they not so subtly trying to warn her to be careful? Of course she had been charmed by him, but now she felt a bit of a fool. Apparently, he was known for his effect on women and everyone from Esther and Georgiana to Amanda Russell thought it possible that she might also be susceptible to him, which she had to admit that she was. Charlotte’s considerable pride was wounded, and she found herself feeling quite immaturely eager to prove at the first opportunity how little she thought of him. 

“Don’t worry about me. The only thing I am interested in at the moment is my work.”

“So nothing with Ben either then?” Esther persisted. 

“No Esther! I feel like I should be asking about your love life actually.” 

The pained look that flitted across Esther’s pale face for a second made Charlotte regret her retort. She had meant to be playful, but it was clear that something had gone very wrong with Babington, and that Esther had been struggling to hide it for weeks. She looped her arm in Esther’s and gave it a squeeze and they walked on for another mile towards Denham house, where Esther parted with them to take the lane home. Charlotte and Georgiana continued together along the path that led straight into Sanditon and up to Trafalgar House.

“Sidney’s being an utter monster to me at the moment,” said Georgiana dramatically. 

“All of my friends are in London and he’s not only stopped me from going to Lagos this summer or taking an internship in London, he’s also now insisting that I not even go into the city at all to socialize. I am so sick of this place!”

Charlotte felt quite indignant on Georgie’s behalf. But she tried to choose her words carefully, knowing somehow that it wasn’t a good idea to get involved in whatever the problem was between Sidney and Georgiana.

“That does sound pretty unreasonable, Georgie. But you are an adult; I don’t really see how he can stop you from going into London to see your friends if you want to.”

“He’s just become so controlling these past few months. Sometimes I just think having all this money isn’t worth it, if it means I have to be handled and supervised all the time and I can’t just live my life the way I want to. I don’t know what his problem is and I don’t want to do something he disapproves of, but I just feel completely trapped, Charlotte! And…and…there’s …someone in London who I really need to see before he goes away for weeks.” 

Georgie looked up, her eyes filled with tears. Of course! Georgie was in love! Why had she not guessed it before? All the signs were there now that she thought of it. Charlotte’s heart ached for her and she paused a minute before asking,

“Does Sidney know that you’re seeing someone?”

“I think he suspects something, but he hasn’t asked me. I don’t think he would exactly approve of it... he's...he's a bit older than me. Sidney just seems to want to scrutinize everything I do and everyone I spend time with right now. To be fair my last relationship was a mess and I did need his help to extricate myself, but this is different. I can't explain, it just feels so wonderful, so right. I had a crush on him for a while before anything happened and then… well… anyhow I want to keep this just for myself, you know? I was planning on going down to London the weekend of the cricket match to see him…you won’t tell Sidney anything will you?”

“No, of course I won’t. But listen, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: You are a grown woman, legally and in every other sense, and you are perfectly able to make your own decisions about where you go and who you see. It’s has nothing to do with Sidney or anyone else … And for the record, I think he’s being really controlling and manipulative. It’s unacceptable, and you should talk to him about it directly.”

Charlotte could feel herself becoming angry with him. She felt used. Had Sidney asked her to watch out for Georgie just so that he could ultimately exert more control over her? Maybe he was one of those men who just enjoyed having power over women. She couldn’t believe that she had started to soften towards him! She had no intention of being manipulated by him or anyone else. 

She could see, however, that Georgie was conflicted and struggling between her loyalty to someone she looked up to almost as an older brother and the completely natural need to take control of her own life and desires. Charlotte hated to see her suffering, and to lighten the mood and cheer her friend up a bit as they turned onto the last part of the path before town, she began to mimic Sidney’s gestures, his expressions, and his deep and mysterious tone of voice. Charlotte was an excellent mimic. Her powers of observation were keen, and in this moment her anger with Sidney made her particularly devastating. She achieved her aim in making Georgiana smile, and had her in absolute fits by the time they reached the turn that would take them to the Crowne. But as she saw Georgie’s eyes widen and saw her make a hand gesture to stop, Charlotte knew that he was nearby and had heard. Her heart dropped and she froze where she was as she heard his voice behind her say,

"Do go on. I’m intrigued to hear what I might say next.”

Charlotte turned to face him in surprise, stunned at what she had just done. His face was impassive, his eyes were cold, and his jaw twitched. He was looking at her with an expression that she found impossible to read – was it disappointment, hurt, anger, or indifference? She couldn't tell. All she knew was that in that very moment she wished that she could sink into the ground.

Sidney turned and stepped around Charlotte. He couldn’t look at her anymore; he couldn’t speak to her. The betrayal he felt at her mockery was compounded by the fact that he had come to Sanditon this weekend hoping to talk to her about his feelings and his past, but she had burnt that plan to the ground now. It was clear she had no regard for him, no respect. He might have been overreacting a touch, but her mockery had triggered the long-buried memory of Eliza’s betrayals. Though he knew somewhere in his heart that there was no comparison, rationality was no longer within his grasp. 

Sidney’s last-minute decision to come to Sanditon had also been influenced by a need to discuss with Georgiana in person some rumours that he had heard in the city. A work acquaintance had mentioned casually that she had rvsp’d to a huge art party in Shoreditch that was being held on the weekend of the annual Sanditon cricket match. He realised that it was finally time sit her down and tell her why she couldn’t go. He had planned on having a careful and detailed conversation explaining why he was so determined that she stay in Sanditon this summer, but in this moment he felt more completely out of control than he had in living memory. His first words to her were therefore almost exactly the opposite of what he had intended:

“Georgie, I had lunch with John Prescott yesterday and he told me that you’ve rsvp’d to the Shoreditch Rout. I thought we’d talked about this already. You can’t go to London this summer! It’s out of the question.”

“I don’t recall there ever being a conversation about that Sidney. It was more like a command – and I never agreed to it!”

“Listen to me: You cannot go and that’s really final! You have to trust that I have your best interests at heart.”

“No! You haven't explained anything and you just want to control me – and you’re doing it in the most despicable way by holding my own money over my head. I don’t think that’s what my parents would have wanted!”

“Your parents wanted me to protect you by all means possible, even if that meant protecting you from yourself! Don’t forget what happened last year. You might not want to accept it, Georgie but you are not an ordinary girl and you do not have ordinary freedoms! I make the decisions here!" Sidney could feel his control slipping away and he struggled to calm himself. He took a deep breath, " Listen Georgie, there are things that I want to...”

“What about what I want?!” Georgie cried out in anguish. She burst into tears and ran away from them towards Trafalgar House, slamming the door behind her. 

Charlotte who had initially been frozen to the spot in a puddle of her own mortification, watched this exchange with growing outrage at the imperious tone that Sidney had used with Georgiana. As Georgie disappeared into the house, she turned to him and said quietly.

“You shouldn’t speak to her that way. She’s not a child and you’re not her father.”

Sidney knew she was right. He already regretted how he had spoken to Georgie, but Charlotte’s interference at this moment was too much. He fixed his eyes on her and she could see now that they were blazing.

He leaned towards her slightly, his eyes narrowing, and said. His voice crackling with supressed rage 

“Didn’t we agree that you would keep an eye out for Georgiana? I should have known you weren’t to be trusted.” 

He began to walk away from her, but Charlotte would not let it go. She followed him.

“And I should have known that despite what you said you don’t actually care for her happiness at all! She’s miserable and trapped here, she needs her friends and to feel she has some agency over her own life, and you seem to have no interest in hearing or seeing that!”

Sidney spun around to face her. He was now clearly as angry as she was 

“Stay out of this Charlotte! You have no idea what’s going on here.”

“On the contrary, I understand perfectly well.”

“Oh of course you do. Even though you’ve known Georgiana a handful of weeks.”

“That’s enough time to see what’s patently obvious to everyone but you: that Georgiana is a grown woman of twenty-three and more than capable of making her own decisions about her own life!!”

“You seem to find it impossible to distinguish between the truth and your own opinions!”

Charlotte could no longer hold back.

“The TRUTH?! You want the truth? The truth is that you are so blinded by your own inherent misogyny that you refuse to see how controlling and patronising you are towards her. But that’s hardly surprising from someone who’s apparently famous throughout London for a string of conquests!”

As she spoke, he studied her face: she had stepped closer to him and was breathing heavily, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were like thunder under a scowl of disgust. Sidney felt like he had been punched. So she did hold Amanda’s stupid words against him! Hadn’t she hurt him enough today? How much more pain did she plan to inflict and how much more could he stand? His eyes fell upon the beautiful red lips he had been admiring only a few days ago, and for half a second he felt the urge to push her against the wall and kiss her senseless, but then he realised that he had never felt so angry in his life. Something deep inside him snapped. He raised himself to his full height towering over her slightly and roared.

“THAT IS ENOUGH! Don’t you dare turn me into that fucking guy! You don’t have a clue about what’s going on here. You think you know everything, but you don’t have a fucking clue!! This is not about your ego. This is about what’s best for Georgie!”

He saw her flinch at his rage, but she held her ground. He came to his senses, suddenly aware that they had been shouting at each other and that although the street was fairly empty, people were looking at them. 

He looked back down into her challenging brown eyes and felt the flutter of attraction that was still there under all the disappointment and fury. He shook his head almost sadly before turning away towards the house and said with crushing finality,

“I don’t need to justify myself to you, Charlotte.”

Charlotte watched him walk away from her and enter the house. Her heart was pumping, her cheeks were warm, and she was breathing heavily. She felt as though she might start to cry and was a bit ashamed at losing her temper like that so publicly, but Sidney really had it coming. “Some people are just inherently disagreeable” she thought angrily as she hurried home to examine her feelings alone.


	16. Georgiana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I need a Sidlotte breather chapter, and I think this is the perfect opportunity to explore a relationship that was given short shrift in the TV series.

The first time Georgiana met Otis Molyneaux she knew she had behaved like a brat. Down in the city for the weekend from uni, Georgie was in the gallery to meet Sidney for lunch. She had become accustomed to the deference and awe with which she was usually greeted by some of the young interns and new gallery assistants when she made an appearance there, and truthfully, deep down, she rather enjoyed her power. It made her feel seen and rooted in the world in a way that she had not experienced since her parents died. 

Georgiana was used to the effect her fabulous wealth and future influence had on certain people and she knew that the recent glowing puff piece about her in Tatler as one of the new “it girls” on the social scene had raised her social currency one-hundred-fold. Sidney rolled his eyes disapprovingly when she told him that the magazine had approached her, but he left the decision in her hands, knowing that these were the sorts of mistakes she had to make early on while she was still figuring out what kind of person she wanted to be. But what Sidney didn’t understand was that Tatler had been a kind of bible for some of the girls at school, and school had been her only regular home after her parents died. Being featured in it so prominently was an acknowledgement of social primacy in that world and Georgie was not about to pass that up. 

Otis had been installed as the gallery’s first COO only a few weeks before and had spent that time travelling and visiting all the galleries in person, talking to staff, reviewing operational procedures, and assessing their implications. He had set aside this particular morning to tackle what he considered to be one of his easiest tasks, considering his background in tech: assessing the IT systems across all the galleries and making a few notes for their IT manager to follow up on with a view to optimizing their communications and working procedures. The assistant who usually sat at the front desk was walking him through their usual procedures. She offered to get them both a coffee and it was at that moment that Georgiana was buzzed up. She approached the front desk with the self-confidence and aplomb of someone who was used to being treated with kid gloves and was surprised to find a rather gorgeous young man whom she had never seen before leaning over at the desk typing with intense concentration at the keyboard. 

“Where’s Joanna?” she said to him imperiously. “And who are you?”

Otis looked up over his black rimmed glasses into the eyes of possibly one of the most beautiful young women he’d ever seen. She was wearing a brightly patterned long skirt and a denim shirt that had been knotted at her torso to expose a few inches of taut early twenties abs. Her hair was up in a side-parted halo twist that wrapped around her head accentuating her beautiful big eyes, impossibly perfect skin and berry stained lips. Otis was momentarily at a loss. He knew exactly who she was, Sidney had mentioned that his ward was meeting him for lunch today, but for some reason he’d thought she was a bit younger, and he hadn’t really expected her to be such a knock-out. Georgie raised her eyebrow slightly at him and tapped her long, perfectly manicured fingers on the desk in exaggerated expectation of a reply, and he slowly stood up to his full 6,1” took off his glasses, and smiled down at her with a bemused and slightly indulgent expression.

“You must be Georgiana. Sidney’s expecting you. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Georgie suddenly felt a little silly and she wasn’t sure why. It might have been that this guy was unbelievably hot: tall, super fit, and that voice and smile! He must be new, she thought; there’s no way she would she have missed him before. She dropped her eyes under his gaze and started scrolling through her phone to hide the sudden confusion she felt. He picked up the reception phone to dial Susanna, but Sidney appeared at that very moment with Joanna close behind him holding two espresso cups, one of which she handed to Otis.

“Hey Georgie.” Sidney said, double kissing her. “I see you’ve already met the new COO Otis Moyneaux.”

“Otis, this is Georgiana Adeyemi.”

“Yes, we were just introducing ourselves.” Otis put out his hand to Georgie and as she shook it he gave her a kind and reassuring smile. 

“Lovely to meet you Georgiana.”

***

The second time Georgie met Otis was more than eighteen months later at the Frieze closing party at the ICA. She had already passed through and become thoroughly bored of her society “it girl” phase and of the arrogant boys that she dated throughout that time who never seemed to pass up a chance to exoticize her or ask impertinent questions about her money. Georgie was now deep in the phase where everything seems to a be merely a dress rehearsal for real life. She had fallen hard for a young art student, but recently he seemed more interested in what her connections could do for his career than in their relationship. 

Simon had been having another one of those nights. The kind where he was alternately all over her or ignoring her. On top of the fact that he had clearly used her name to get some of the best after-party invites, he had also asked her to lend him some money earlier. She knew instinctively that he wanted it to buy drugs. Georgie stood at the end of the bar gripping her drink and watching Simon fling himself around the dancefloor with another girl. The flashing purple lights and pounding bass and heaving bodies suddenly made her feel dissociative, like she was in some kind of nightmare relationship loop. She knew she had to end it, but she was afraid: every time she had tried to break up with him in the past, he would find some way to guilt-trip her or would threaten to harm himself. And now that she suspected he was using again she was worried about what might happen next. She felt trapped. Sidney had made his disapproval known and warned her about Simon; she couldn’t bear to admit that he had been right all along. She felt worthless and alone, so incredibly alone. 

Otis caught sight of Georgie almost the moment she arrived and smiled to himself remembering their first meeting. She was as beautiful as ever. Her hair was worn in curls now and she had on a tight black crop top and black shorts underneath a denim jacket with hoops in her ears. He noted that her style was more edgy than the last time he had seen her but also that she was more subdued and less confident, as though she was hiding her radiance for some reason. He watched her all night and grew increasingly irritated seeing her standing alone and sad, looking on while the skinny hipster white guy who seemed to be her boyfriend danced and had the time of his life. He looked like he was on something as well. Otis was at the party with a woman he had just started seeing, and he didn’t want to be rude, but he had to go to Georgiana. He’d explain it to his date afterwards if she was annoyed. There was no way he was going to leave her standing there alone to be humiliated by that arsehole. 

Without thinking, he moved quickly through the crowd, greeting a few people as he went but not stopping to chat, worried that if he stopped before he reached her, he might lose her in the heaving mass of people. As he approached, for a split-second Otis hesitated, what was he planning to say exactly? She might not even remember him, and he needed to keep in mind that she was not just any girl – she was Georgiana Adeyemi and Sidney’s twenty-two-year-old ward – Sidney, who was his friend and technically his boss. What was he actually trying to achieve here? He registered these thoughts, and then did what he did best – he took action. 

“Hi Georgiana.”

She started and looked up. Otis was standing beside her and looking down at her with a friendly smile on his beautiful face. She knew exactly who he was and was even aware of a shudder of nerves and wave of warmth rushing through her as she smiled brightly for the first time that evening.

“Hi Otis!”

There was a pause, and he jerked his chin at Simon out on the dance floor.

“Is that guy your boyfriend?” 

Georgiana looked away, for some reason she didn’t want to admit the truth to him, but after a second she looked back up at him and nodded rather ruefully.

Otis frowned slightly and held her gaze with a searching look that seemed to go on for ages, as though he was staring into her soul before deliberating on what to say. Then he did something that sent a shiver of joy down her spine. He leaned down, close to her ear and said what he had been thinking all night.

“You’re out of his league.”

She smiled and looked up at him gratefully; he smiled down and winked. They stood there for some minutes more in companionable silence, and Georgie felt somehow that she was no longer alone. He was virtually a stranger, but he had nevertheless seen her in some essential way, and she hadn’t felt that way since her parents died, not even with Sidney or the Parkers, whom she loved like family. With Otis beside her she suddenly felt strong, like she could do anything and face anything. Each minute that they stood there together – both of them nodding slightly to the bass teased out of the decks by the DJ – felt like another minute that she was able to claw back some essential part of herself that Simon had chipped away, and when Otis was finally pulled aside by an acquaintance, he made sure to turn back and look at her, nodding to her as though they were in silent agreement, before disappearing again into the crowd. 

Georgie watched him go, but she didn’t feel alone anymore. She looked out at Simon one last time, put her drink down on the bar, and left.

***

Things were finally starting to fall into place for Georgie. After a hint from Otis, Sidney had sat her down and asked about Simon just when she really needed him to, and with his help she had managed to entirely extricate herself from the relationship – though it did require Sidney paying a visit to Simon in person and a restraining order in the end. But things were looking up again, she had just started her MA course and it was going really well; ideas about how she wanted her future to look and what she wanted to do were starting to formulate. Georgiana felt that suddenly her life had started in earnest.

The third time Georgie and Otis met was eight months later at the WBP December party. This event was not just for WBP employees, as the Christmas weekend was. It was seen as a way for the entire London art world to come together to let their hair down without any pressure, and things usually got pretty wild and stretched to the early hours of the morning. Georgie had missed last year, but it was generally one of her favourite events. 

She was looking forward to this year for another reason: She knew that Otis would be there, and ever since that night, she had thought about him a lot, about how he had come out of nowhere to support her when she needed it most. Why had he done that? They'd only met once before, and she was pretty rude that time; he was under no obligation to even speak to her. The thought of seeing him again filled her with anxiety and joy in equal measure. 

This time she found him, but when she approached, he didn’t seem surprised. And later in the evening after they had talked and joked together and exchanged stories about their lives, when she asked if he would come outside with her, he quietly agreed.

They stood behind the venue, awkward and suddenly shy. She shivered and he immediately took off his jacket and gently placed it on her shoulders without saying a word. His jacket was warm and smelled of his cologne and she unconsciously snuggled in closer as though it was his arms that were encircling her, not expensively cut Italian merino wool.

“Otis, I…I wanted to thank you for that night. It meant a lot what you said and when you said it.”

He shrugged, his eyes never leaving her face.

“It was only the truth, Georgiana.” 

She blushed and looked down at her feet.

“Well it was somehow exactly what I needed to hear, and I…I…broke up with him. It was a bit messy, but it’s over, now. I was so rude to you the first time we met, and I just wanted to say that I am sorry for that. I hope that we can be…friends.”

She looked up at him, her eyes a declaration, her face young and sweet and vulnerable and more beautiful than any he had ever seen and he knew in that moment that he was lost. His mind whirled: she was at least 7 years younger than him, her guardian was his colleague and employer, there could be a lot of consequences if he did what he wanted to and what he had wanted to from the very first day, but his agile mathematical mind made the emotional calculations and he decided that it just might be worth it. 

He reached for her and as his fingertips softly grazed her cheek, she closed her eyes and fell into his arms. His warmth encircled her and when his lips reached for hers, Georgiana felt as if she had come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Georgie meets Otis at the gallery wearing this  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/534872893215074519/
> 
> Georgie kisses Otis at the WBP Christmas party wearing this  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477826812401/


	17. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your wonderful, thoughtful comments and encouragement! I really enjoy reading all of them and getting a sense of how you read these chapters, what is working, and what you want to read about next. Family and work are quite busy at the moment, but I will try to continue to post regularly. 
> 
> This is a shorter chapter, but I thought I'd put it out there now on its own rather than tack it to the longer chapter that will follow.

The rest of the weekend was spent in avoiding Sidney, and Charlotte was forced to make up an excuse to Marion for missing her Sunday lunch. Even after she knew he had returned to London, Charlotte continued to bury herself in her work, attempting in the process to also bury some of the uncomfortable feelings she still had about their very public argument. “Sidney Parker,” she told herself over and over, “is one of the most arrogant, self-absorbed men I have ever met and if he thinks that a few basic kind gestures and a bit of interest in my work is all that it takes to make me weak in the knees, then he has another thing coming!” She had definitely been softening towards him and had had a close call, that was all. Thank goodness she'd seen him as he really was before she'd fallen for him! Occasionally, through the fog of her anger, she would remember the look in his eyes when he caught her mimicking him and a pain would stir in her chest, but when she thought of how inflexible and patronising he had been with Georgiana and how dismissive he had been of her rebuke, the rage bubbled up again.

The one silver lining in of all this was that Charlotte had made an interesting discovery in her research on the Parker family. It wasn’t really anything of true significance for her book, but she thought it might make an interesting discursive footnote on the Parker family finances when she wrote her monograph on Trafalgar House. It had to do with the original Sidney Parker. When Charlotte began to look closely at the photos she had taken of some of the Bedford Place documents, she found a reference to a bank draft indicating that Tom Parker had repaid Elizabeth Campion’s 80,000 pounds sometime around May 1820. In the same bundle of papers, she found a copy of a letter written by Elizabeth Campion formally breaking her engagement to Sidney Parker that was also dated to that time. Charlotte was intrigued. If this money, a sum that she had understood to have secured the generational wealth that the Parkers benefitted from to this very day, had not come to the Parkers through Sidney Parker’s marriage, where had it come from? And how was it that everyone had come to believe that Sanditon was saved by Sidney’s marriage to a high society widow? Charlotte found the answer, to the latter question at least, in her notes and in the photos she had taken of the documents in the Trafalgar House archives. The source of this false history could be traced back to three entries in Tom Parker’s diaries, the first of which recorded Sidney Parker’s engagement to Elizabeth Campion and her subsequent generous contribution to rebuilding Sanditon. The second was much more brief and recorded Sidney Parker’s marriage in October of 1820, although the bride’s name and where the marriage had taken place was not recorded; and the third was a short note written into the margin of a page which simply said:

“E. formerly Campion, d. July 23rd 1821. Scarlet fever.” 

It seems that from these three cursory scribbles in Thomas Parker’s diaries an entire narrative had been assumed and formed much later, and this story had been subsequently solidified and passed down in family lore. Indeed, she might have never questioned it herself had she not discovered the bank note and letter indicating that the money had been returned and the original engagement broken. In fact, there was no indication of who Sidney Parker had married in 1820, though another business document suggested that he had continued interets in Sanditon for a couple years more and may have lived at Whytcliffe for at least part of that time, presumably with his wife and any children they may have had. It would be interesting to know more about this Sidney Parker and his family as well as about how Elizabeth Campion’s investment in Sanditon had been made up. Charlotte was sure that further exploration of the Bedford Place archives would turn up more information on the subjects, but considering that she and Sidney were now at odds another research visit would have to wait until Tom was able to assist. Charlotte was fascinated by this misunderstood part of the family history upon which so much had hinged. Since the original Thomas Parker was considered the head of the family and the current Parkers were his direct descendants through the male line, perhaps it was not so surprising that no one had delved into the question a little further. There could be very little space for or interest in the fate of the second Parker son in that history.** 

In addition to working, Charlotte continued to spend a lot of time with Georgiana, whose desperation to see the man she loved seemed to grow with each day. Georgie never mentioned his name or anything else about him to Charlotte but she did say that he was due to leave the country on business in two weeks-time and that her last chance to see him before he left would be on the weekend of the annual Sanditon cricket match. Charlotte advised her to simply go, though it never occurred to her that Georgie might lie about it or sneak away. Having been afforded a great deal of trust and independence early on from her parents there was no question in her mind that the situation could be resolved through an honest and direct conversation with Sidney, explaining that she was seeing someone and that she intended to go. Charlotte considered this more than reasonable, and simply couldn’t see any compelling motive, other than misplaced paternalism, for Sidney to be so against it. In fact, having given her advice, Charlotte barely gave it another thought.

***

The annual Sanditon cricket match was yet another one of the town’s traditions that had been originally established by the famous Tom Parker. It was never played at the Sanditon Cricket Club but always on the beach, and so cricket whites were not required. It had always been that way and no one ever questioned it. The event was now considered a family event and had expanded to include matches between different ages groups, but throughout the nineteenth century (and well into the twentieth) the main event was a match between the gentlemen and the male labourers of the town. The teams were no longer organised along class and gender lines and were more casually formed by drawing straws and included men and women in equal measure; the Parker brothers, however, always played on the same team. Earlier in the week Tom had twisted his ankle while leading a local historical society group tour in the town, and he asked Charlotte if she would step in to replace him this year as an honorary Parker. Although she loved the game and had grown up playing it with her siblings, Charlotte was reluctant to accept. She was hoping to avoid the day entirely and thus to also avoid Sidney who was expected to come up to play with Babington and Crowe, but Tom had insisted and for some reason it was always really difficult to say no to him. The other team was to include mostly men and women from the Denham House staff including Ben DuPre, who was in town working on the Denham House annex. Ben had almost had a career as a professional cricketer, and everyone was looking forward to a match that promised to be quite a bit more exciting than usual. 

The day of the match was warm and sunny with a bit of a wind, and Charlotte, standing with her mid-morning coffee at the window of her flat, could see that the tents were already set up on the beach for refreshments. She smiled to see Marion Parker neat and elegant in jeans and a flowy bohemian blouse and espadrilles scurrying back and forth with cakes and sandwiches and other good things to eat, but when Sidney’s tall athletic figure followed a few paces behind Marion carrying a stack of chairs, her traitorous heart leapt. He was dressed more casually than usual, in rolled up navy chinos, a tight grey t-shirt that showed off his toned biceps and shoulders and a pair of beaten up stan smiths. She turned her back resolutely to the window and sat down to her computer with a sigh. This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Just a reminder of how history is so often a constructed narrative that picks and chooses its focus based on which documents survive and who is telling the story. 
> 
> Also, if you’re interested in a longer read and want to fill in the blanks of what might have happened to Sidney and Charlotte, have a look at my previous story, "Sanditon Continued - A Novella" (my titles are deeply unimaginative i realise!), which I tried to write in the style of Jane Austen and which I envisage as the companion history for this modern retelling.


	18. The Cricket Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my very rudimentary understanding of cricket.  
> Another jam-packed chapter, hopefully not too rushed...

When Sidney saw Charlotte leave her building and walk along the promenade towards the beach, he felt a sudden jolt of adrenaline course through his body. No matter how much he had tried these past two weeks, no matter how many times he told himself that she was arrogant, self-important, and judgemental he knew that his attraction to her was still there, and that it was possibly even stronger than before. Their argument had left him furious and frustrated in a way that was completely alien and a little bit terrifying. After leaving her in the street he went directly to his annex in Trafalgar House and actually punched a hole in the wall of his bedroom. Marion gave him a curious look at dinner when she saw the cuts and bruises on his hand, but he was grateful that she said nothing – he would not have known what to tell her. In the weeks that followed, all he could remember about their encounter was Charlotte’s lips, her flashing eyes, and her unrelenting demands that he explain himself. Everything else, even the substance of their disagreement, seemed to fade into the background. 

She approached the beach and he took the opportunity to study her covertly: her dark hair was loose and blowing wildly in the wind; she was wearing a pair of red sunglasses, cropped distressed skinny jeans with white trainers and a sleeveless navy blouse that billowed in the wind and was unbuttoned to reveal just enough of her lovely chest and collarbone. He had to admit that he loved to look at her in all of her various guises, and also that it stung a little bit when she swerved to avoid him and went directly to Ben DuPre who was standing nearby with a couple of his teammates. She greeted him with a friendly hug.

“Good luck today, Ben,” she said sweetly, “not that you’ll need it!” 

Charlotte caught sight of a group of teenage girls who had gathered beside them and were already making eyes at him and giggling.

“You seem to have gathered several admirers already!”

Ben was delighted. It was rare that Charlotte flirted with him and he joined in with spirit.

“I hope you’re among them, Charlotte.”

Acutely aware that Sidney was standing only a few feet away, she laughed and with a rather seductive smile said as she turned to join her own team

“Well, I can’t really support an opponent, but ask me again once I’ve seen you play!”

Sidney heard every word of this exchange. Staring hard into his drink and then out to sea, he struggled to tame the raging jealously that was suddenly burning inside of him. He really liked Ben and respected him, but right now all he wanted to do was punch him in the face! 

God, what was happening to him! It was like a tornado had ripped through his calm and carefully controlled world and now he was at the whim of his every emotion in a way that was entirely new; he felt that the ground beneath him was constantly shifting and that he was sliding around without an anchor – and it was all because of Charlotte Heywood.

***

George had heard nothing from Esther since she cancelled their dinner plans and ignored his phone calls that day almost a month ago. Though he had a natural self-confidence and optimism, the finality of her rejection had convinced him that there was no use in persisting. If he had not promised Sidney and Tom long ago that he would play at the Sanditon cricket match he would not have come today, not because he didn’t want to, but because he thought it might be more comfortable for Esther not to see him. But the Parkers’ concerns had become so intertwined with his own over the years that he felt that he could no longer say no when they asked something of him. 

Sanditon had become a kind of second home to him; in many ways far more so than Strathhough, the estate he had inherited from his father and which now generated revenue through events and through thousands of visitors to its house and gardens, as well as its café, gift shop and farm. He had an apartment in a part of the big house and a more secluded and private farmhouse on the grounds nearby, but he did not consider it a home. Babington’s strained relationship with his father meant that for a large part of his life, since meeting Sidney and Tom at prep school in fact, he had found it a relief and a pleasure to come to Sanditon on most school holidays. In fact, it struck him more than once, that considering he had spent so much time in the town over the years it was unusual that he had not met Esther Denham before, and he said as much to Crowe as they drove down from London for the match.

“Oh no not Esther again, please! Look, I am quite exhausted at the mention of her name. You’re uncommonly smitten with that woman! She’s clever, I’ll admit; she knows it’s the chase that keeps you dangling.”

Babington was used to Crowe’s cynicism and never took offence.

“No it’s not that, Crowe. Esther does not waste time with petty games, she’s brutally honest. I know there’s something else behind her silence. I just wish I could find out what it was.”

At the match a few hours later his heart seemed to stop at the sight of her standing staring out to sea with her hands in the pockets of her crisp white dress, her face fresh and her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. If on occasion, in the day-to-day routine of his life in London with his work and his daughter, he was able to convince himself that his feelings for Esther would pass, seeing her again had torn away the security blanket of that pretense. She was avoiding him, that was clear enough, and Babington might have been entirely content to look at her from afar if Lady Denham had not called him over to where she was sitting. Clearly, she had been informed that there was some kind of relationship between him and Esther and felt it necessary to apologise for her niece.

“She’s hysterical, George, she always has been. You musn’t pay her any mind. She has no idea what’s good for her. It’s absolutely ridiculous for her to hold against you something that happened so long ago. How could you be expected to remember? I approve greatly of you courting my niece and you need only ask if you need my assistance to convince her.”

Although Babington could not help but feel amused by this absurd conversation which was beginning to feel more and more like a scene in a Jane Austen novel with its discussion of “courting,” he was simultaneously disturbed by Lady D’s references to a mysterious past event and also offended on Esther’s behalf. He wanted to make it perfectly clear that he would under no circumstances align himself with Lady Denham against her niece.

“I appreciate your encouragement Lady Denham, but I have to say that I don’t recognise the person you describe. Esther seems more than capable in virtually every respect, including knowing what she does and doesn’t want. It is one of the things I admire the most about her. I think you can trust her to know her own mind, I certainly do.” 

He stood up abruptly, excusing himself and looked about frantically for Esther. He finally spotted her walking down the beach some distance away from the tents and hurried towards her.

“Esther, please stop I need to speak to you.”

She turned towards him and sighed.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that we go over everything again, Babington. Let’s just leave it – please – and get through this day.”

“I’m sorry. I know you’ve made it clear that you don’t want to talk, and you don’t want anything further to happen between us. And I wouldn’t usually insist, but your aunt seemed to imply that there’s something else you’re not telling me, something that happened in the past. Did I…did I offend you in some way?”

Esther looked surprised and suddenly a bit embarrassed.

“I don’t know how she … In any case it was nothing, nothing serious at all.”

Babington looked slightly relieved, but if he had done something wrong in the past he still wanted to know about it and make amends.

“Please tell me Esther.”

“You really don’t remember.”

Babington looked at her, searching her eyes as if he might read the answer in them, and suddenly buried somewhere deep in the recesses of his brain was a memory of the first Investors’ weekend he had attended with Sidney when he was twenty-two. 

It was right after his awful break-up with Eliza, and Sidney was in a very bad way. Babington had skipped his father’s annual birthday weekend to be with his best friend and to keep him out of trouble as he had been doing for several months. It was also the first time that Sidney and his siblings had attended the event after their mother’s death, and the evening had been a difficult one, involving memorial speeches and countless conversations about her with sympathetic board members. 

Sidney had started drinking early and had also done a few lines of coke. In the years that followed, all Babington remembered about that night was that Sidney had made a spectacular scene which had ended in him beating some guy bloody in the rose garden. Babington had had to pull his friend off the guy before he did any irredeemable damage and practically carry him home. 

But now, looking at Esther he had another memory of that night, of spotting a red-headed girl across the room and of kissing her passionately in the dark garden path, and her whispering that she wanted to be with him, and then having to tear himself away from her to go to his friend once the commotion started, promising that he would return. 

“Oh Esther!… I can’t believe I forgot … that was an insane night. Sidney was…well you remember. You have to know that under any other circumstances I would have called you or found you.”

“Listen, it doesn’t matter. I was nineteen at the time and romantic. That has nothing to do with things not working out between us now, whatever nonsense my aunt had been telling you. Nothing has changed between us Babington.” 

She turned and continued to walk away, and he heard his name being called in the distance. The match was starting, and once more Babington was compelled to let her go because of his loyalty to Sidney. 

***

The match began with the team captains, Ben and Sidney, shaking hands and flipping a coin. Ben’s team chose to bat first and Charlotte took a position on the field along with some of the other team members while Arthur was wicket keeper and Sidney bowled. Sidney was an accomplished fast bowler, having been captain of his school’s cup-winning cricket team but Ben’s superior skills as an all-rounder were clear from the moment he stepped on the pitch and cracked the ball almost into the sea. Sidney watched with admiration as Charlotte sprang into action and deftly snatched it up before it reached the boundary, winging it smartly back to Arthur, but not before Ben and his teammate Fred had scored 2 runs. 

The match went on in similar fashion with Ben’s semi-professional skills elevating everyone else’s game, but neither team was able to take a commanding lead. By the end of the second inning the number of runs were tied, and the match had reached an impasse. Everyone had really given their all, the sun was starting to inch slowly towards the horizon and the players were starting to look weary. Crowe was already looking longingly towards the Crowne and Babington was distracted by Esther’s presence in the refreshments tent; the other team members were already milling about, chatting or checking their phones waiting for the match to conclude. Only Sidney and Charlotte and Ben seemed to retain their focus and energy to the end. Charlotte was up as striker with Sidney at the opposite end of the pitch. Sidney’s competitive streak had taken him over completely, and he badly wanted to win against Ben. 

They had said very little to each other throughout the match, but now as Sidney glanced over at Charlotte and watched her tie her hair back and take her position with the bat on the return crease, he could not resist coming over.

“Keep your eye on the ball, all right?”

Her eyes flashed and narrowed a bit.

“Yes, thank you. I know what I am doing.”

But Sidney couldn’t stop, he was captain after all, he told himself, he just needed to talk strategy with her.

“If you can’t make the run then just stay put.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes in exasperation. 

“For God’s sake, Sidney! You really can’t resist being patronising can you? I think I’ve proven that I know exactly what I am doing, so if you’re finished mansplaining me could you please just go away so we can win this match. I am trying to concentrate and you’re putting me off!”

His face softened, he nodded his head admiringly and gave one of his rare laughs. She always knew exactly how to put him in his place, and in this moment he finally recognised that despite everything, despite how infuriating and judgmental and sometimes wrong she was, he absolutely loved these interactions with her. They made him feel alive like almost nothing else.

He retreated back to his position and held his breath. 

Sidney was not Charlotte’s only admirer that day. Ben had also been watching her and marvelling at her skill and determination to win. Not only was she clever and gorgeous, and great company, she was also killing it at cricket, and although he knew that he could out bowl her, in his heart he was rooting for her. He hadn’t held back with some of the best players on the other team and Sidney had certainly got the worst of his arm, but in the last minute he took a tiny bit of speed off his bowl and aimed it directly at the centre of her bat. Swinging with all her might Charlotte whacked the ball out of the boundary, gaining her team 4 automatic runs for the win. Their team and a few other supporters watching from the sidelines cheered, and Marion, Tom, and the children were jumping up and down in jubilation. 

Sidney and Arthur roared in delight and raised their hands in the air and Charlotte grinned from ear to ear in sheer joy and exhilaration at their victory. Without thinking Sidney ran up to her grabbed her around the waist and threw her in the air. She put her arms around his neck instinctively, laughing. But the moment ended almost as quickly as it began. Suddenly aware of was happening, Sidney put her down immediately; she dropped her arms and felt her face grow warm. 

They stood looking at each other for a moment in confusion before she turned and moved towards Ben.

“Congratulations Charlotte!”

“Thanks Ben. But don’t think I didn’t see what you did there. I don’t know whether I should be grateful or a little pissed off that you let me make that run.”

Ben refused to concede, and shrugging said with a wide grin.

“You won fair and square. But I hope we’ll play on the same team next time.”

“I would like that very much. See you in the pub later!”

She ran off to enjoy the congratulations of her other teammates. After the first confusion of victory gave way to the more pressing concern of deciding where everyone was going for celebratory drinks, she and Sidney found themselves side-by-side on the periphery of the group. 

He fixed his intense gaze on her and said in a deep and serious voice that seemed for her ears alone and made her shiver slightly,

“Well done, Charlotte.”

“Thank you.”

She looked down, suddenly shy and unable to meet his eyes, and she wondered, with a touch of relief, if this was a truce.

In that moment Arthur came bounding up to them. 

“Marion said all the players should to go on ahead to The Crowne and enjoy a pint on Tom’s tab. She and Tom and the others will clear up here and join us after.”

He ran ahead to spread the word, and Sidney and Charlotte lingered a little behind the others who were already on the promenade moving towards the pub. They walked together in a heavy silence. 

Sidney looked around and frowned suddenly. Considering that he and Charlotte seemed to have established a fragile truce, he didn’t want the reminder of their last argument to ruin things, but he couldn’t help but wonder aloud where Georgiana was. 

“It’s unusual that Georgiana didn’t come at all. I saw her when I arrived this morning.”

“Well, didn’t she go to London? She said she intended to go this weekend,” said Charlotte simply.

Sidney stopped short and without thinking he grabbed Charlotte’s arm to stop her from walking any further.

“What!?”

He said with an undertone of panic.

“Sidney, don’t start this again! She surely mentioned it to you? She told me that she wanted to go to London this weekend and I told her that she should go if it was that important to her.”

He could feel the anger rising in him again. Why did Charlotte insist on interfering? He dropped his hand from her arm and stepped back from her, his voice was dangerously close to a shout.

“You did WHAT?”

Charlotte had no idea why he was being so weird about this, but she wasn’t about to stand for another public dressing down, and her temper began to flare in turn.

“I swear to god, if you shout at me one more time Sidney Parker, I won’t be held responsible for what I do! What is the big deal?! She’s twenty-three, she wants to see her friends! What is so wrong about that?”

Sidney turned away from her, his hand running through his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts. He had to think; he had to stay calm; now was not the moment to let Charlotte distract him. He made a mental calculation, he knew had his wallet, phone and keys with him and he turned away from her and started to move quickly towards his car, which was in the parking lot at the end of the promenade. 

“Sidney!” cried Charlotte, running after him. “Stop!! Tell me what is wrong! What is this about?”

He kept walking, barely looking at Charlotte

“I told you to stay out of this! I told you that you didn’t understand. But you just wouldn’t listen!”

She reached out and touched his arm. “Please tell me what’s going on!”

He stopped at the touch of her hand, blinded and irrational with fear and rage and looked at her.

“Georgiana has been getting kidnapping threats for years, but in the past six months they have become more regular, almost weekly, more detailed and grotesque, more specific, as if someone was watching her every move. The letters have slowed since she came to Sanditon, and I thought she’d be safe here until the police were able to figure out who this person is, but now she’s gone alone to London … and… and…if anything happens to her, it will be on your head!”

Charlotte froze in horror, and he turned and walked away from her moving quickly and resolutely towards his parked car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cricket Sidney
> 
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477832369810/
> 
> Esther at cricket match  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477824172860/


	19. Clearing the air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just loads of Sidney and Charlotte alone and in London

Sidney sat in his car for a moment to collect his thoughts. The first thing he did was send Georgiana a text message and ring her mobile, but it went straight to voicemail. He considered calling the police, but since she was grown woman who had simply taken the train to London, and as far as he knew nothing had actually happened to her, he was sure that would end up being a colossal waste of time. 

She would most likely have gone to the party in Shoreditch she was talking about, he thought, and with any luck he might be able to catch her there by the time he arrived in London. He took a deep breath and was just about to put the key in the ignition of his car when the passenger door opened and Charlotte slipped into the seat beside him.

“I am coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“No. It’s better if I do this alone.” He replied tersely.

“No. Sorry. It’s not!” she fixed him with a determined look.

“Fuck, Charlotte!!!” he said almost to himself, hitting the steering wheel in frustration. “As if this situation were not bad enough, I now have the added burden of protecting you!”

Charlotte was taken aback. His words had given her a sudden glimpse into his psyche, and she realised that Sidney put himself under immense pressure to care for and protect everyone he was close to – what it meant that he seemed to include her in that group was a subject that she did not have time to examine at the moment.

“I don’t need protection, Sidney. But you do need my help.” Feeling a sudden tenderness towards him, she put her hand lightly on his arm. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He turned and looked at her and she saw that his eyes were raw and full of emotion. 

She put her seatbelt on and faced forward,

“Georgiana told me she’s seeing someone. She wouldn’t tell me his name, but I know she wanted to see him this weekend. She’s probably with him now. We just have to figure out who it is.”

Sidney looked at the side of her face for a second; then he started the car and put it into gear. Within minutes they were barreling out of Sanditon and heading to the A24 and towards London.

***

They drove in silence for the first 40 minutes, both with minds too full to speak and with a sense that words between them could be dangerous. But after a while Charlotte couldn’t resist asking,

“Why didn’t you just tell her?”

“She had a tough time last year and I just didn’t want to freak her out more than necessary and stop her from living her life as normally as possible. I thought I had it under control.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Tom and Marion do, yes; but I didn’t really take into account that she might make a friend who was going to encourage her to … what were your words again? … develop a sense of ‘agency.’”

Charlotte felt this was a bit unfair.

“If you had been honest with me when you asked me to watch out for her. If you had only told me that you feared for her safety, then I would have thought twice ab…”

“I could not have been any clearer that she was not to go to London.”

“You were vague! You gave no reason for your decisions, no explanations...”

“Oh, so you supplied your own! You baselessly accused me of being a controlling, manipulative misogynist!”

“Hardly baseless, considering your reputation…”

“For God’s sake, Charlotte!! ... I …” he could feel himself getting angry and took a deep breath to collect himself. He did not want to shout at her again, but what could he say that wouldn’t sound idiotic and self-serving. 

“I despise the idea of trying to manipulate or control her… or anyone else for that matter.”

“Well, I can think of no other reason why you would handle it in this secretive way…”

“Are you really so naïve? Georgiana is wealthy beyond belief! She’s been receiving these kinds of threats since she was born. They’re a fact of life for her, and she knows she has to be careful! But these letters are much worse than the usual stuff, they're more personal and vindictive. It’s my job as her guardian to watch out for her, to spare her stress and pain when I can. Why do you always want to think the worst of me? What have I done to make you hate me so much?”

Charlotte was uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to answer him, and she didn’t know why she found it so easy to question his motives.

“I don’t hate you … all I ever cared about was Georgiana’s happiness.” She said quietly.

“And what do you think I care about?”

“It’s anyone’s guess.”

“That’s not fair! I’ve done my best by Georgiana.”

“Have you? She’s no longer a child and you seem to be continually making decisions that affect her life without consulting her. She’s afraid of making mistakes, of your disapproval, it’s no wonder she didn’t talk to you about going to London or her new boyfriend. Anyone can see she’s lonely and isolated, Sidney! You’ve cared for her, yes. You’ve given good advice and protected her interests and made sure she was physically safe, but she needs more than that!”

Now it was Sidney’s turn to be uncomfortable. It was true that Georgie rarely talked to him about her life, and she did seem to fear his disapproval; the one time he’d been able to help, it was Otis who had given him a nudge after seeing something concerning at a party.

“It’s not a role I asked for.”

“Of course not! Because you are determined to remain an outlier. God forbid you’d give something of yourself.”

“Please don’t pretend to know what I am thinking, Charlotte.”

“How could anyone know what you’re thinking! You take pains to be unknowable, inscrutable. I would much rather be naive than immune to all emotions!”

There was a pregnant pause; Sidney considered her words and what the subtext to this conversation might be. And then he said quietly,

“Is that really what you think of me? I am sorry that you think that. My life would have been much easier if I were.”

He could feel her looking at him, studying the side of his face, and he was grateful that it was dark and that he had to keep his eyes on the road.

***

Sidney pulled his car up into the narrow alley behind a formerly derelict building on Rivington Street where the party was. He shifted into park and turned in his seat to look at Charlotte. 

“Georgie wanted to go to this party. She’s probably in there now, but if she’s not you’ll have to ask around if anyone’s seen her.”

“You’re not coming in with me?”

“No. I’ve texted John to put you on the guest list so you’ll have no problem getting in. But if I go in, I’ll just end up having to talk to loads of people and we’ll get slowed down. I’ll wait for you here.”

“OK. But am I dressed for this?” she gestured nervously to her sandy jeans, veja trainers, blouse and army jacket.

Sidney couldn’t resist a laugh.

“This is an art party in Shoreditch, Charlotte! You look perfect.”

As Charlotte turned the corner to the entrance of the venue, she couldn’t resist an admiring glance back at Sidney who was leaning against his car, smoking nervously. He really was gorgeous.

Once inside Charlotte wasted no time in scanning the crowd and asking around for Georgie. No one had seen her, though everyone seemed to know exactly who she was. In one last-ditch effort, she approached a young man who looked around Georgie’s age and asked as casually as she could if he’d seen Georgiana Adeyemi around tonight. He turned and looked her up and down appraisingly

“Georgie? Nah, haven’t seen her in ages. I ran into her a few months ago at the redgallery, she was with Otis, but haven’t seen her since then. Can I buy you a drink?”

Charlotte smiled and made an excuse. At least she was leaving with a bit more information than she had arrived with. She hurried outside and around the corner to where Sidney was waiting and stopped short.

Sidney was exactly where she had left him, but now there was also an exquisitely beautiful blonde woman speaking with him animatedly. Sidney’s arms were folded tightly across his chest and he was looking at the ground and shuffling his feet somewhat, nodding his head in agreement with whatever she was saying to him. Charlotte found it difficult to read the situation and for a second she considered turning away, but then she remembered Georgie and she moved closer, they really had no time to lose. As she approached, she could see how uncomfortable Sidney looked and suddenly realised that this was not a friendly chat. 

“Do you have any idea how painful that was, Sidney!” she heard the woman say.

“I just felt so manipulated, but I couldn’t even be angry because, of course, you had covered your ass by saying at the beginning that you didn’t want anything serious!”

“I know, Aisling. I really can’t apologise enough. I was a dick, and I am so sorry.”

His apology only seemed to make her angrier and she threw her drink in his face.

“Fuck you, Sidney! Do better next time.”

She stormed towards Charlotte, slowing down just enough to say as she passed her.

“Careful of that one, he’s heartless!”

Sidney wiped the drink from his face and from his soaked t-shirt. He looked up and his heart dropped when he saw Charlotte standing there staring at him. She had clearly witnessed the whole incident and he knew it would just serve to confirm her already dim view of him. 

“Gosh,” she said sardonically. “Never a dull moment with you Sidney Parker!”

Her words were sharp, but they were softened slightly by her putting her hand on his arm and squeezing it sympathetically as she came up to him and looked at him with eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, well. I guess I deserved it.”

“I am not sure you did. No one deserves that kind of treatment, not even you.” She looked in her bag and handed him a clean handkerchief with a smile, but she couldn’t resist teasing him a little bit more.

“I was only gone for about 20 minutes! I wouldn’t have imagined that would be enough time for you to live up to my expectations so dramatically!”

Sidney was stung by this offhand comment and confused that it seemed to coincide with an apparent concern for him. He reached out and gently held her arm, preventing her from moving away from him, and said seriously

“Please don’t have another go at me, Charlotte. I don’t think I can handle it just now.” Her heart started pounding at his touch and she looked up at him surprised by the serious tone in his voice. He paused before continuing. 

“You say you don’t hate me, but you never miss an opportunity to judge me. Why is that? I thought you of all people would understand that finding the right person is not easy, and it’s not always possible to get everything 100 per cent right all the time. I…I’ve made a lot of mistakes, it’s been difficult, since, well since someone betrayed me a long time ago, I am not going to lie. It’s not an excuse, but making a mistake is not yet a crime as far as I can tell; even with the best intentions, hearts get broken. Have you spared a thought about how Ben DuPre looks at you? Have you considered that you might be stringing him along to make yourself feel better after your break-up? And who knows how many other men you might be stringing along…”

Charlotte’s feelings were in turmoil. His hand was warm on her arm and her heart was pounding in her chest. What was he trying to say? She could not make out what she felt anymore, nor could she deny the truth of his words. She knew about what he had gone through with Eliza and felt that she had been judgemental and unfeeling. Her assumptions about him and her need to protect herself had blinded her to everything else not just in his behavior but also in her own. She could suddenly see how vulnerable he was, and she was filled with regret for all the bitter things she had said to him. Sidney’s eyes searched hers for a moment and then he seemed to recollect himself, shaking off the intensity of the moment he let go of her arm and stepped back, saying in a more businesslike voice

“What did you find out?”

Charlotte collected herself.

“No one’s seen her this evening, but someone did tell me that he’d seen her a few months ago with someone named Otis…the name is familiar, but I can’t place it. Do you know who that is?”

Sidney started in surprise and frowned, suddenly the penny dropped.

“Otis…”


	20. Otis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not just Otis, of course, also Georgiana, Charlotte and Sidney...
> 
> Hard chapter to write, and still not sure it's right, but we must move inexorably towards our Sidlotte HEA!
> 
> Just a heads up that nothing violent is described here, but there is some mention of stalking, trolling and self harm.
> 
> More to come very soon...

Otis looked at his watch again. It was 9:30 and she said she would be there at 7:00. He had cooked, set the table for a romantic meal, the start to their last weekend together before he left for Nigeria on Monday for three weeks, and she was late. It wasn’t unusual for her to be late, but her phone was off and she wasn’t answering his messages, and that was strange. A bad feeling was growing in the pit of his stomach, but he was still trying to explain it away. Otis firmly believed that there was always a rational explanation for everything, and his default was to look for that explanation first, though he had to admit that when it came to Georgie all the carefully constructed rationality on which he had built his life went out the window. She had blown through each of his barriers and concerns with ease until it was clear to him that there was nothing on god’s earth that could keep them apart. 

That didn’t mean that the last six months hadn’t had its difficulties, however. Georgiana’s outrageous wealth and privilege meant that she saw the world very differently to him. She had experienced her fair share of racism and microaggression since moving to the UK, of course, but her parents and then Sidney had taken very good care to shelter her as much as possible in every other way, and it showed in how she approached the world as a place that could be made to suit her wishes. Otis’s parents were not deprived; they had worked hard and turned a blind eye to many things in order to make a very nice life for their family in the UK after immigrating from Antigua – Otis and his brother had attended Dulwich College and gone on to top universities and successful careers – but his world was not Georgiana’s world, or George’s, or Sidney’s, or Susan’s world for that matter. 

For the first seven years of his life Otis had been more or less raised on the water. His mother always used to say that he was half man, half porpoise. He remembered his early years in Antigua as carefree, but once they moved to the UK his parents became stricter, more demanding, and they had very high expectations of their sons. At school, Otis had fallen in for a few months with a wilder crowd of wealthy boys, but he learned fast that he couldn’t screw up. At a crucial moment his father had taken him aside and made it clear that society left no space for him to make a single mistake, one false step that might be accorded and forgiven to his white friends, would set him off course for years, possibly forever: his father’s solution to this injustice and his own reaction to it was to strive for perfection. As a result Otis’s discipline was extraordinary, he became head boy at school, captained the hockey team and the cricket team, received all A*s in his A levels, a first in his economics degree, and founded a highly successful tech start-up – and still none of this was enough to prevent a litany of microaggressions and insinuations throughout his life. He had learned to tune it out, to build up a wall, and to respond with more excellence, but he couldn’t deny that the pressure to be perfect – to prove himself while many other men, mostly white men, coasted along on their connections or confidence – was starting to take a toll. It was something that George and Sidney, even with the challenges he knew they faced in their own personal lives, could never fully understand. 

His relationship with Georgie was the one time he had weakened in following the high standards he set for himself. Though he was uncomfortable about starting a relationship in secret with someone who was younger than him and was so closely connected to Sidney, Georgie could not be resisted. Their connection was like nothing he had experienced before, and he knew very early on that he was willing to put everything on the line for her if necessary. 

It was a pleasant surprise when Georgie had rung him to say that she was coming to London this weekend. They had talked about it, but Otis had told her that he couldn’t see her again until she’d spoken to Sidney about their relationship. He loved her, but he didn’t want them to be a secret. His heart had broken a little bit when he realised that for some reason she found it difficult to be honest with Sidney, and he had begun to reconcile himself to living without her when she got in touch to tell him that she was coming into the city to see him after all and that she would talk to Sidney first. But now he was wondering if something had gone wrong. 

Georgie had messaged him when she arrived at Victoria station this afternoon. She said she was going home to freshen up and pick up a few things before coming over, but he had heard nothing since. She had a magnificent Grade-II listed end of terrace house on a quiet square just across the river in Chelsea. It lay virtually empty most of the year, he knew, and she found it too large and too full of memories of her parents to spend much time there, but it was still her official base when she was in London. Otis paced the floors of his Battersea apartment and looked out over the sparkling city lights reflected in the Thames. He rang her mobile again, and the landline in the house for good measure and when both went straight to voicemail, he felt a twist of dread in his stomach that he couldn’t shake off. He grabbed the keys to his Porsche 911 and ran out the door.

Otis’s car practically flew over Battersea Bridge, and as he pulled up on to the pavement in front of her house his phone rang. He could see it was Sidney and picked up.

Sidney’s voice was almost frantic.

“Is Georgie with you, Otis?”

“No. But I am pulling up in front of her house right now. Something’s wrong, Sidney. I don’t know what it is yet, but she was supposed to meet me at 7 and she’s not picking up her phone.”

“Listen. She’s been getting threatening letters for six months now from someone who either knows her or has been watching her closely. See if you can get in the house. We’re on our way.”

Otis hung up and jumped out of his car, his hands shaking, how had he not known that she was being threatened? He ran over to her house, looking for any sign of life inside. He looked up at the second-floor window and thought he could see a light shining somewhere deep inside. He knew he had to get in. Otis looked around, there was no way that one of the neighbors had not yet clocked him. He was acutely and instinctively aware that a Black man, no matter how fancy his car or how expensive his clothes, standing peering into the windows of a house on this street would be automatically seen as suspicious, but right now the main thing was making sure that Georgie was OK. He rang the doorbell to no avail and was considering breaking one of the cellar windows, when he suddenly remembered that Georgie had given him an emergency key a few months ago. He ran to his car and dug it out of the glove compartment then unlocked the door and stepped inside.

***

Sidney and Charlotte were now also racing across the city towards Georgie’s house. Sidney’s feelings were in utter turmoil, and Charlotte was watching him nervously. He seemed truly on the cusp of some kind of breakdown and she was worried for him. 

“Calm down Sidney. It’s not safe to drive at this speed.”

“I will not fucking calm down!” He growled. “I can’t fucking believe they’ve been carrying on like this for months without anyone saying anything! I considered Otis my friend for fuck’s sake!”

“How does this make him no longer your friend?”

“He’s been lying to me Charlotte! She’s been lying to me.”

“Maybe you’re not the easiest person to talk to…”

“Don’t give me that again! I am perfectly reasonable. I just expect people to be honest with me.”

“The way you were with Georgiana about these threatening letters?”

There was a silence and Sidney took a deep breath, which seemed to calm him slightly.

“Otis is at least seven years older than Georgie! It’s not appropriate.”

Charlotte laughed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sidney! She’s twenty-three! At the risk of sounding like a broken record – she’s Not. A. Child! I don’t know why you insist on infantilising her like this! There’s nothing illegal or untoward happening. Listen, I don’t know Otis, but I do know that Georgie seems pretty deeply in love with him and that up until this minute you considered him a friend and trusted him, so he can’t be all that bad. And seven years is nothing! You’re seven years older than me!”

Sidney cast her a curious look, and said quietly,

“But we’re not sleeping together, Charlotte.”

A jolt ran through her at the thought, and despite the anxiety for Georgiana that coursed through him, he could not resist smiling slightly when he saw her blush.

“Right. Well. You take my point - we’re friends and the age difference doesn’t make a difference there.”

“Are we friends now?”

“I think so.” She said simply.

When they turned into the street, two police cars were already parked outside of Georgie’s house and a man was sitting in the back of one. Sidney’s heart stopped.

“Oh my God,” said Sidney when he saw the man’s face. “Simon! That little shit. I am going to kill him!”

They explained who they were to the police officer on the door and were let inside. An exhausted looking Georgie was sat on the sofa with Otis who held her hand while she answered the police officer’s questions.

Apparently, Simon had heard that she planned to attend the party in Shoreditch that evening and he had broken into her house waiting for her to show up. The neighbours had seen him with her before and didn't suspect a thing when he started turning up in the neighbourhood again. He knew the housekeeper’s schedule and remembered the secondary security code for her alarm, which Georgie hadn’t bothered to change. Despite the police recommendation and Sidney’s insistence on a restraining order, Georgie was certain that everyone was over-reacting and that Simon wasn’t capable of anything dangerous. 

When Georgie arrived home this afternoon, she hadn’t noticed any difference until she went upstairs and into her bedroom and found Simon there waiting for her. The house had been fitted with panic buttons, but Simon also knew where most of them were, and prevented her from getting close to the one in her room. He said he wanted to talk; that he wanted to get back together; that he knew about Otis and that he wouldn’t let her be with anyone else and that he would harm himself right there in front of her if she refused. Georgie was terrified but she got through it by staying very calm and drawing on some of the early training she had been forced to take in case of an attempted kidnapping. 

She had rather heroically managed to keep Simon calm and talking to her throughout the entire three-hour ordeal, but by the time Otis appeared in the doorway of her bedroom she knew she was reaching the limits of her energy and her sanity. 

When he entered the house Otis heard a man’s voice and hurried upstairs, instinctually he tried to remain quiet. One look at Georgie’s exhausted face and the terror in her eyes and body language and he knew what was wrong. He ran in and lunged at Simon, and Georgie jumped across her bed to press the panic button. It wasn’t difficult to subdue Simon, who was high on something, and Otis held him until the police arrived a few minutes later. 

By the time Sidney and Charlotte arrived and Sidney confirmed the previous complaints and restraining order against Simon, it was becoming clear that he was also responsible for all the recent letters. He had seen Georgie and Otis together sometimes around Christmas and had twigged that they were in a relationship. Exacerbated by his growing drug problem and paranoia, Simon’s letter campaign became more descriptive and vile as time went on. Georgiana buried her head in Otis’s shoulder as Sidney explained about the letters to the officer.

Once the police had written their report and taken Simon away, Georgie grew calmer and leaned her head peacefully on Otis’s shoulder. Charlotte went to make everyone a cup of tea while the others remained in the sitting room talking quietly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Sidney?”

asked Georgie quietly.

“I am so sorry, G. I thought it would be easier for you if you didn’t know. You had such a hard time last year and I just wanted to protect you from more anxiety and pain. 

“You can’t protect me from everything, Sidney. I have to start making my own decisions, but how am I supposed to do that, how am I even supposed to protect myself, if you won’t give me the information I need to let me live my own life?”

Sidney swallowed hard. She was right and he didn’t have an answer for her. None of the reasoning for his decision seemed to make sense anymore.

Georgiana continued. 

“I should have told you about Otis and me from the beginning. I am sorry. It was immature of me. Otis told me we couldn’t see each other again until I did, but I chickened out. I lied to him and I lied to you and I am so sorry.” She looked up at Otis who kissed her forehead. “And I don’t want you blaming Charlotte either! She told me to talk to you directly, I don’t think it ever occurred to her that I would sneak away.”

Charlotte brought tea for everyone and sat down next to Sidney. He seemed so alone and almost broken. She wanted him to know she was there as his friend.

Sidney looked at Charlotte. He felt calmed by her presence beside him and by the way she was smiling at him now.

“I don’t blame Charlotte. She’s been right all along.”

It was decided that the best thing for Georgie was to go back to Otis’s apartment and stay there for the weekend as planned. Charlotte’s words in the car combined with what Georgie had just said calmed Sidney considerably. His initial feelings of betrayal were replaced with gratitude that Otis had followed his gut instinct and come when he had, and also by a certainty that whatever happened, Otis clearly had Georgie’s best interests at heart. All the other details, all the other plans for the rest of the summer could wait until next week to be discussed. He stopped Georgie as she turned to get into Otis’s car and hugged her tightly.

“I am so relieved that you’re safe,” he said. “You know I love you, right?” 

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. Although she did know it somewhere deep down, he had never said that to her before and she suddenly felt so incredibly happy and grateful and free.

“Me too, Sidney.” He kissed the top of her head, and nodding meaningfully at Otis he watched her get into the car and drive away.


	21. Natural Habitat

Charlotte stood on the steps of the house and watched Sidney say his goodbyes. He seemed different somehow, as if this experience had broken him open, and though she knew it was getting late and had texted a friend that she might need to crash with him and his partner at their flat in Stoke Newington that night, she was reluctant to leave Sidney until she was sure he was ok. He stood with his back to her and watched Otis’s car drive down the road, standing there long after it had disappeared from view.

Charlotte moved towards him, and reached out to gently put her hand on his back.

“Sidney? Are you OK?” she whispered.

He turned to look down at her and she saw with surprise that his eyes were full of tears. Without thinking she drew him to her and though he hesitated for a second, his arms quickly wrapped around her waist and he buried his head in her neck and hair and clung to her for a moment, letting his tears flow silently in relief and release. He was a lot taller than her and the intensity of their embrace had her on her tiptoes and almost bent backwards, but it felt like coming home. Her hand reached unconsciously to his neck and she stroked his hair, feeling it curl through her fingers. “Whatever he needs from me,” she thought almost inadvertently. “I am here.” 

Charlotte in his arms felt so unbelievably right, and once the first rush of emotion had passed, he became very aware of how his body was reacting to having hers crushed against him. He wanted desperately to kiss her, to touch her and see her response. He wanted her in his bed more than anything in that moment, but he also realised that this embrace had been an offering of friendship, of empathy and he did not want to read more into it than she was ready to give. He pulled back, apologising and though she felt somewhat bereft from the loss of his arms around her, she managed to say with the utmost sincerity.

“Don’t ever apologise for having emotions and worrying about the people you love. It just makes you human.”

“I am glad you’re here, Charlotte.” He said simply, knowing it could only inadequately express what he was feeling.

Charlotte looked down, aware that her heart was pounding again. What was this feeling that he inspired in her? It wasn’t just attraction, although there was a healthy amount of that too, it was something far more complex and she couldn’t put her finger on it, but she was sure she had never felt it before. Some deep part of her screamed that it was love, but she was far too rational to allow that thought to fully form: surely real love was something that could only develop with time and with consistent, mutual understanding. She and Sidney had butted heads from the beginning, there was intensity there, yes, but they seemed to struggle to communicate, there was always something in the way of clarity and she was never entirely sure where she stood with him. Nonetheless, his opinion mattered to her and she thought about him a lot. She didn’t want to leave him just yet, but she was also afraid of assuming anything or overstepping as she had done in the past.

“I am glad I could help. Listen, It’s late and I am sure you’re tired after everything, so I’ve messaged a friend who lives in Stoke Newington, and he says it’s no problem for me to crash with him tonight. I thought I'd catch the night bus up there now before it’s too late.”

Sidney was disturbed by the mention of this mysterious “he” friend and also knew he wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. Some part of him too was hoping that a few more hours together might clarify some of the feelings that he was sure were growing between them, and maybe tonight might end… differently. He felt increasingly ready for whatever that might mean.

“There’s no way you’re taking the night bus! I will drive you if you insist on going, but can I convince you to have a drink with me first? I really need one. The King’s road is not my usual stomping ground, but I am sure we could find something adequate and expensive down there.”

She nodded, feeling elated. They found a rather swish bar not far from Georgie’s and stood in a corner together with their drinks. They were squeezed in but neither seemed to mind the closeness. It was loud and Sidney had to lean in to speak into her ear, each time breathing in her scent a little and letting his eyes linger on the skin of her neck and inside the top of her blouse. She was intoxicating and he could feel his desire for her growing with every second.

They drank together and talked about London, and university and how much fun she’d had living in the east end during that time, she also talked about Cambridge a bit, and was surprised at what he remembered about her from their previous brief conversations. Sidney talked about Oxford and his time Rome, which had been life changing, and after a pause he admitted that his girlfriend at the time had lived in Chelsea while he was at Oxford and that he’d had to spend quite a bit of time on the King’s Road with her, but that he’d always hated it. 

“But isn’t this your natural habitat?” said Charlotte teasingly.

He laughed, but added,

“Perhaps I don’t truly belong anywhere. As you said, I am an outlier.”

Charlotte was not sure how to respond; she hadn't thought that he would consider her words so seriously. She decided to change the subject.

“I just don’t understand how anyone can enjoy this kind of place! The drinks are expensive, and the music’s too loud to talk but not really good enough to dance.”

“This is Chelsea, Charlotte. People come here to be seen and then they move on to the next place. I think there’s dancing upstairs, though.”

She finished her drink quickly, and said 

“Well it’s getting late I should probably leave now too, if that’s ok for you.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Ok for me? Since when do you ask my opinion about anything you want to do.”

He had meant it as a compliment, but Charlotte thought of all the times she had overstepped with him, misjudged and berated him, and in light all of the events of this evening when he had shown himself to be far more caring, more kind, more emotional and vulnerable than she had ever expected, she suddenly felt ashamed.

“I know. I am too opinionated and quick to judge… too...”

He stopped her, looking deep into her eyes, and said

“No, you’re not too anything. Don’t doubt yourself. You’re more than equal to any woman I’ve ever known.”

They stood staring at each other, and Charlotte tried to stop the whirring in her mind. What was he saying to her? 

A sudden movement of people towards the staircase near where they were standing interrupted the moment, and hearing the music upstairs Charlotte felt a sudden urge to dance. She looked up at him playfully.

“Come on, let’s dance. I love this song.” 

In her excitement she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up the steps. He downed his drink and followed her, certain that he would follow her virtually anywhere when she looked at him like that and thrilled by the feel of her hand in his own. She peeled off her jacket and threw it in a corner and then lifted by the heaving bass of the music she disappeared into the dance floor. It was a catalyzing moment for Sidney watching Charlotte dance, the way she moved she seemed to transcend the room and go into a different dimension, completely forgetting that he was there. She didn’t dance for him, in that way that women often did in clubs; she didn’t dance for anyone but herself. Watching her in that moment he felt that something serious was happening to him. Not only did he know that he was explosively attracted to her, but for the first time he felt that it wasn’t even possible to ignore or deny it or stuff it down anymore, that he was compelled now to take a chance that she might feel something similar. 

He moved through the throng towards her. When he reached her, the music changed to a club hit from ten years previous and everyone went wild. They found themselves carried away by the pulsing, jumping, sweaty crowd and as he danced, caught up in the moment, Sidney suddenly felt 21 again, the brief years before everything had gone so wrong and he was free of concerns about Eliza, Sanditon, his siblings, his mother’s death. He grinned down at her and laughed; he and Charlotte and about 100 other people sang along to the song. Looking at her in that moment, his heart seemed to break open. She smiled and moved into him; her eyes were dark and searching, and his hands moved to her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world. In all that chaos it was suddenly only the two of them. He knew he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t want to do it there for the first time. He took her hand and they moved through the crowd and off the dancefloor toward the door.

But then he stopped short, and he felt his throat go tight and dry.

Eliza, of all people, was walking up the steps towards them.

What was she doing here and why now of all moments did she have to appear? He hadn’t seen her for fifteen years! She walked straight towards him and smiled a dazzling smile. One that he remembered from long, long ago and his heart jumped in his chest despite himself. He dropped Charlotte’s hand in surprise and shock but when he realised that it was gone and searched for it again it was out of reach. Sidney felt that he had lost his anchor and that he was about to sink. 

“Sidney! Oh my god! I can’t believe I’ve run into you like this. It’s fate! I just arrived from LA yesterday, and I was going to ring you.”

She reached out an arm and pulled him to her, double kissing him slowly and sensually on each cheek.

“Eliza!” he said in shock. He turned to look at Charlotte and saw that her smiled was strained and that she had retreated from him. “Of course,” he thought, “someone’s already told her about Eliza. She knows everything.”

“Charlotte,” he said, looking at her almost pleadingly. “This is Eliza Campton.”

They shook hands and Charlotte looked at the woman before her. So, this was the famous Eliza. The woman who had broken his heart and played such an essential part in forming the man he had become. She was extraordinarily beautiful. There was no denying that. But it was more than that: the other women she had seen Sidney with were also beautiful, but they mere facsimiles of the original, none of them had the essence, the instant charisma, the effortless charm and style of Eliza. It was no wonder that Sidney seemed to have forgotten that she was standing there. Charlotte could almost feel her heart breaking. She had tried so hard to keep him at arms-length. Nothing had even happened between them yet, but here she was anyhow, despite everything, desperately in love and now forced to watch him fall back under the spell of the only woman who had ever meant anything to him. 

Charlotte murmured something about going to the loo and hurried away. Instead she grabbed her jacket and stumbled out on to the street frantically messaging her friend that she was on her way to his flat and ordering an Uber to pick her up. It arrived within minutes and as the car drove away, she felt the sobs rise in her chest and the tears start to fall. She picked up her phone, typed out and sent a message to Sidney.

Charlotte: Sorry I left without saying goodbye. I decided to take an Uber to my friend’s house after all. I am really shattered after today. Enjoy your reunion with Eliza! ;) x

She regretted the last part of her message almost immediately; she didn’t know why she added the last comment and the emoji. It was insensitive. It was meant to seem knowing, the kind of cheeky message she might send a friend. The irony, of course, was that considering how Eliza had treated him, it was not actually something she would ever do to any friend.

But Charlotte was beyond any kind of rational thought just now, she was working on pure emotion. On the dance floor he had looked so happy, so free, and so entirely himself. She knew at that moment that she was in love with him and that she couldn’t pretend or resist it anymore. She had taken a chance and moved toward him. The feel of his hands on her waist practically burning through her shirt, the way he had looked at her, and then taken her hand to lead her… where?... she’d never know now. 

But he had let go of her as soon as they had seen Eliza, and now she just needed to protect herself, at all costs.


	22. Eliza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful comments!

Sidney felt as though he was in one of those nightmares where you can’t move or speak. Everything had been crystal clear, but now he was lost in a heavy fog. Just a few minutes ago he had been deliriously happy: Charlotte was holding his hand, he was going to kiss her – properly and privately – and show her how he felt about her, and who knows where that might have led; but in her inimitable way Eliza had turned up and ruined the moment. In the confusion, Charlotte had taken her hand away from him and disappeared before he could stop her. 

His eyes darted around the bar searching for her while Eliza chattered away, and then he heard his phone ping. He glanced down at Charlotte’s message and turned immediately to run down the steps to the street, desperate to catch her before she left. But when he got there she was already gone. 

He read her message again, confused. It seemed to be pushing him towards Eliza. But why would she do that? If she knew about him and Eliza, then she surely also knew how things had ended between them? Had he misread everything this evening? Maybe Charlotte really only wanted his friendship? It didn’t seem like that a few minutes ago, but now he wasn’t so sure. If he could only talk to her, things might be clearer. He stared out into the street without seeing anything at all and then he felt a hand slide across his shoulders and heard that all too familiar voice.

“Has your friend left?” It was Eliza, of course. He looked down at her distractedly and nodded. “Uh yeah, she was tired and had to go to a friend’s house. I was going to drive her, but she took an Uber instead …” He kept looking at the message, willing it to make sense, trying to put the words together so that he could understand why she had left him like that; but Eliza was saying something and slowly her voice started to sink in.

“I just live around the corner, Sidney. Why don’t you come back to mine and we can talk? I was going to ring you anyhow: I know it was a lifetime ago, but things were left in such a mess between us at the end. I feel like we still have quite a lot of unfinished business. There are things I’d like to explain to you if you’re willing to hear them.”

Looking at the message, Sidney suddenly felt defeated. What did it matter now what he did? Charlotte had left him alone, and she even seemed to expect or encourage some sort of reunion between him and Eliza. He had clearly been mistaken about them; his own wishes had convinced him that there was something special happening, but actually Charlotte was just a nice person who saw him for exactly what he was – damaged goods. Why would she ever want to be involved with someone like him, and how could he blame her? He looked numbly into Eliza’s cool, confident blue eyes, and shrugged.

“Yeah. Sure. Let’s go.”

***

Eliza’s house was just like her: cool, beautiful, expensive, elegant, confident – and a little bit soulless. Everything looked just right, the best interior designers had chosen her furniture and arranged her books; a good art advisor had certainly selected the artwork, but none of it had any meaning to her beyond being the right thing.

She fixed him a drink and sat down next to him on her sofa, putting her hand on his knee and staring into his eyes meaningfully. 

He looked back at her, inspecting her perfect face impassively. It was curious how little she had changed in fifteen years, but more curious still was how little she affected him. He hadn’t expected that. Until fairly recently she was the woman to whom he had unconsciously compared all others, but now in person something was off. She was still beautiful, maybe even more so than before – very LA, breezy, bohemian, understated expensive: her hair was tousled and blondish in a chic shoulder length blunt cut, her eyes still bluest blue, her pouty mouth and smile was all there, like before. 

He felt his heart twisting in his chest – but he knew it wasn’t for her.

“It’s so good to see you, Sidney.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. It is. I’ve missed you.”

He laughed.

“I think we both know that’s not true.”

“I can understand why you might not believe it, but it’s the truth. I know I hurt you very badly and I’ve thought about it virtually every day since I moved to LA. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that everything ended that way between us. You were my first love Sidney. My first everything. I was so stupid to let it end like that.”

Sidney frowned and inspected the ice in his drink for a minute.

“I actually really appreciate your saying that, Ellie.”

She smiled. He was the only one who ever called her Ellie, and it felt good to hear him say her name in that beautiful deep, intimate voice of his. It was true that Eliza had begun to regret letting Sidney go and that she had thought about him regularly over the years. But it was also true that she had wanted a lifestyle that was an anathema to him. When she met Campton at a party and he had swooped in to woo her away from Sidney, she had gone willingly and with a fair amount of relief that she was free of his earnest disappointment and intellectual judgement of her, which had always made her feel a little bit inadequate.

Her marriage to Campton lasted three years, and the divorce settlement had made her wealthy beyond her wildest dreams. Now that she had everything she had ever wanted, Eliza began, quite naturally, to think back to the things she had given up. Relationships seemed a bit flavourless as she grew older and she found herself increasingly wondering about Sidney. She heard about his successes and occasionally saw a piece about him and the gallery in a newspaper or magazine. He was as handsome as ever in his photos, and when she decided to move back to London she also decided to get in touch with him. She was confident that it wouldn’t be difficult to rekindle something. He had been devastated when she left him, and her intel was not only that he was still single but also that his relationships never seemed to last too long. It also had not escaped her notice that every woman she saw him photographed with in the party pages was a pale copy of herself. Thus, running into him this evening seemed like fate.

Sidney knocked back his drink, marvelling that this insane day had brought him here and wondering where it would possibly go next. After the emotional roller coaster of the past twelve hours, he thought, nothing could ever surprise him again.

He was tired, vulnerable and emotionally spent, and the thought did occur to him that sex with Eliza, which was clearly what she was angling for, might help to numb the roiling, burning pain he was feeling just now. It was not the ending to this night that he had hoped for, but it would be easy enough, and it would mean that for a few hours he wouldn’t have to think about what had just happened with Charlotte or face that she seemed to not return his feelings. Charlotte even seemed to expect that a reunion with Eliza was on the cards, why not live down to her expectations at least for one night? 

He put his glass down on the table and faced Eliza.

“Were you also going to apologize for cheating on me throughout our entire relationship?”

Eliza looked faintly surprised that he knew that.

“Joshua Thorpe was kind enough to let me know at one of the Investors’ weekend parties after we broke up. He also mentioned that you shagged him in the cloakroom one year while I was in the other room.”

Eliza looked unsettled for a moment, but she recovered quickly.

“Sidney, I was a child! A stupid, selfish child. I didn’t know what I was doing half the time. I didn’t know how to have a relationship. You can’t hold all of that against me now fifteen years later!”

The truth was that Sidney didn’t hold it against her anymore. He realised with surprise that he simply didn’t care at all. Now all he wanted was to get this part of the evening over with so he could get home, possibly drink himself into oblivion, and then figure out how he was going to get through the rest of his life without thinking about what might have been with Charlotte. 

Reaching up to touch his face, Eliza stroked the stubble that was starting to appear on his cheeks and looked into his eyes tenderly before leaning forward to place her soft lips on his.

Sidney froze at her touch. He had thought that at the very least it would be familiar, possibly even vaguely comforting, to kiss her again, but it felt so incredibly wrong that his entire body seemed to revolt at the thought of going any further. Whatever had happened tonight, whatever agony he was feeling right now or might feel in the future, he knew that this was no longer how he wanted to deal with his pain. He turned his face away from her and stood up.

“I am sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted this, Ellie,”

he said gently, looking down at her surprised expression.

“As I said, I really do appreciate your apology. It did take me a long time to get over what happened between us, and I was curious to hear what you had to say about it now, but those feelings are all in the past. You are right: we were both young and inexperienced, mistakes were made, and life goes on. I don’t bear you any grudges. Not anymore.”

Eliza smiled at him serenely,

“I am glad to hear that Sidney.” She stood up and after a moment said, “The Sanditon regatta must be coming up next weekend? I thought I might come up for that and maybe we can talk a bit more about old times.”

Sidney shrugged, too exhausted to argue.

“You can do what you like, Eliza. It has nothing to do with me.”

He turned and left.

***

Sidney barely remembered driving across the city and getting home. He had checked in with Otis long ago to find out how Georgie was doing, and now he was lying in his lonely bed staring at Charlotte’s message, wondering again what it meant and how he could possibly respond. He had written a few messages to her and erased them all. He considered asking why she had left or telling her that he was thinking about her, which he was; he also considered apologising, but he wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. In the end he had to accept that there could be no one answer and no certainty about what Charlotte might be thinking without asking her, and that is what he intended to do when he saw her in person next weekend at the Regatta. If friendship was all she wanted from him then he would have to accept that. 

Sidney: I am sorry you didn’t wait for me to drive you. Let me know that you got to your friend’s house safe tonight. See you next weekend at the Regatta. x 

It was 2am, but her response came almost immediately.

Charlotte: I did, thanks for asking. See you next weekend. x


	23. Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. It's been a hectic week. Hopefully, I will be able to continue at pace over the next few weeks.

As she read his message, a million questions ran through Charlotte’s head. Why was he texting her so late? His text had been friendly but no more; had she misread his signals in the bar and had he gone home with Eliza in the end? Charlotte was filled with doubt as soon as her Uber car drove away. Certainly about her stupid, cowardly message to him, but also about why she had not just stayed and assessed the situation more coolly. Georgie had told her about his past with Eliza, how hurt and betrayed he had been by her abandoning him after his mother died and by all the lies during their relationship, and she had just left him there to face Eliza alone. At least 25% of her tears had been because of this, but the reasons for the other 75% were far more complex. Seeing Eliza in the flesh at that very moment, when she realised that she loved him, had unsettled and frightened her more than she would have ever thought possible. Her instinct had been visceral and entirely about self-preservation: Sidney had dropped her hand, or maybe it had been the other way around, she didn’t really know any more and it didn’t matter, she felt like a third wheel. 

Charlotte could barely sleep for thinking about it. She thought about it in the morning when she had a quick breakfast with her friends; she thought about it when she caught an early train back to Sanditon; and she thought about it every day during the long week leading up to the Sanditon Regatta, concluding ultimately that, although it was painful for her, it was right that Sidney should have a chance to rekindle a relationship with the great love of his life if that was what he wanted. He had struggled along on his own for too long and it had clearly taken its toll on him emotionally. She loved him enough to wish him happy, and if he and Eliza could work out their past problems and move forward then she wouldn’t stand in the way. After all, she had meant it when she said they were friends now, and if friendship was all he wanted from her it would have to be enough. 

Despite all her efforts to suppress her feelings and get on with things, the week dragged for Charlotte. She was distracted and listless, getting nowhere with her work and spending hours walking along the cliffs, helping Tom and Marion prepare for the Regatta, or daydreaming at home alone. Georgie had rung her to say that she was leaving for Lagos on Thursday to spend the rest of the summer with Otis, and Charlotte was happy for her friend, promising that they would spend more time together in September when they were both in London. She felt suddenly that the rest of the summer would be very lonely indeed: for some reason, Esther had retreated, throwing herself entirely into her work and rarely coming out in the evenings; Arthur had started a relationship with Callum Greene and spent every spare minute with him now; Diana had gone to Tuscany to take a six-week yoga teachers course; and Ben only came to Sanditon every couple of weeks. Charlotte realised how much she had looked forward to Sidney’s intermittent presence in Sanditon. Despite or possibly even because of their clashes, each time he had come into town her world became sharper, more colourful, and now she wondered how she was going to bear knowing he was somewhere with Eliza. 

She wanted to see him again, but she was afraid to see him again in case her fruitless love might be written all over her face, exposing her. To what exactly, she was not sure: possibly the shame of unrequited feelings? But was there shame in that? She also wasn’t sure how she had become locked in this painful and paralysing silence that now felt too portentous to disturb. 

What it boiled down to was this: she was afraid to tell Sidney how she felt, not because she thought he might be unkind, not because she was ashamed of her feelings, but because it risked overturning the precious equilibrium of friendship and harmony that had been carefully established between them, and which she now realised was almost indispensable to her. Rather than disturb that, Charlotte decided to hide what she felt and to put her energy into being a supportive friend, regardless of what pain it cost her. In time her feelings would pass.

***

The first Sanditon Regatta was held in 1819 making it one of the very oldest of such events in the country; famously, James Stringer had captained the winning boat in the first men’s rowing race. Since then the regatta had grown in size and in stature though it remained a one-day event. It could never compete with Henley or others in status and international exposure, but Sanditon’s regatta was still considered an undiscovered treasure amongst rowing afficionados. 

Races were held all day for both men and woman, and there were now two courses, the old and the new one. Though the new one was now the exclusive domain of professional or semi-professional rowers, the old one remained a popular favourite for experienced amateurs, and the Parkers almost always entered a boat. The races began downstream, on the part of the river that skirted the old Denham estate and they ended near the clubhouse and extensive grounds of the Sanditon Rowing club, which erected a marquee at the midpoint and at the finish line for paying visitors on the day of the event. 

Charlotte dressed carefully that morning, mindful of the dress code at the clubhouse enclosure which was nowhere near as strict as Henley but nonetheless discouraged jeans or shorts. She hoped to find in her clothes the feeling of protection and confidence that she thought that she might need to get through the day. She put on a flowy light-yellow sleeveless dress, a pair of flat raffia sandals and clipped her hair up in a loose chignon. 

Charlotte had offered to take Jenny, Alicia and Henry to the beach that morning so that they could play and get their energy out before the men’s race started. She hoped that she would be early enough to miss seeing Sidney, as she did not yet feel ready to face him, but when she arrived he was already there leaning against the kitchen island drinking an espresso and chatting easily with Marion. Her heart lurched at the sight of him and at the sweet, slow lopsided smile he gave her when Tom brought her into the room. He was wearing chinos and a white shirt and striped tie, but the garish blue and red striped Sanditon rowing club jacket was draped across the kitchen counter ready to be put on later. Tom was already proudly wearing his jacket and a boater hat and was chatting away about the day’s events to anyone who would listen. Marion smiled at her husband indulgently and went off to get the children ready. 

In fact, Tom’s chatter was a welcome distraction for both Sidney and Charlotte whose feelings were in turmoil, both wondering what the other was thinking, both a little bit terrified to know, and nevertheless drawn to each other like magnets. When Tom stepped out for a second to find something, Sidney took his chance. He had been thinking all week about how he could get close to Charlotte again, to see if he could find out how she felt about him and if there was a chance for them. He felt like a teenager in the throes of first love: terrified, excited, and paralysed in turn by the strength of his own feelings and by what could happen. Behind it all he was also aware that Charlotte’s regard and friendship had become indispensable to him and he didn’t want to do anything to disturb or lose it, and this gave every interaction between them more weight. He noticed that she seemed reluctant to look him in the eye; was she afraid of what he might say to her? He took a deep breath and took the initiative.

“I brought some documents up for you. They were locked away in one of the cupboards the day you were in London. I found them this week when I was poking around in the library at Bedford Place and thought they might be interesting for you. There are loads of papers I don’t remember ever seeing before. Anyhow, I’ve put them in the library, but you can take them to your flat if you like. I trust you.” He smiled tenderly at her leaning his head to the side slightly.

Charlotte smiled too and thanked him. It was really thoughtful of him to do that and she felt a hopeful flutter somewhere in her chest. He paused awkwardly and continued. 

“I…uh.. I thought I might come with you and the kids to the beach this morning, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.” Charlotte looked away for a second, unable to hold his gaze and aware that she felt really happy. After a moment, she said, 

“Georgie rang me this week to say goodbye. I am glad you agreed to let her go away this summer. Did she get off to Lagos on Thursday alright? I hope it wasn’t too traumatic for you?”

Sidney chuckled.

“No it was fine. We had a really good talk after everything that happened, and I also talked to Otis and cleared the air. I think I never really realised how my actions affected her, and how I was still treating her like a child. I just wish I had realised it earlier; but in any case, I let her know that as far as I am concerned she’s an adult who’s free to make her own decisions, but that if she needs me for anything or for any advice. I am always here. It was a good conversation.”

He nodded happily, almost to himself, and Charlotte observed how at peace and content he seemed now. She knew she had no right to be, but she was proud of him.

“I am so glad, Sidney. I think after all she’s been through Georgie’s heart might break if she couldn’t be with Otis this summer.” She paused before adding “No one knows better than you how sharp the agony of separation can be when you’re young and in love.”

Sidney looked up at her frowning very slightly. If she was referring to Eliza, how could he let her know that all of those feelings were in the past without being presumptuous and assuming.

“Yes,” he muttered, shuffling his feet a bit, “well, fate has a strange way of surprising even the most jaded of us.”

Charlotte laughed a little bit, determined to be supportive

“You’re not nearly so unfeeling as you pretend.”

“Well, I hope you’ll keep it to yourself. I have a reputation to uphold!” 

He replied teasingly and with a growing hope that he would be brave enough to tell her how he felt once they were at the beach alone with the kids off playing. They both heard the doorbell ring faintly in the background, this was followed by Tom’s delighted voice and that of a woman, and by footsteps that eventually moved towards the kitchen.

As the voices grew louder and came nearer, Sidney’s heart dropped. It wasn’t possible!? She wouldn’t dare come here after their conversation last weekend and after he had ignored her phone call to the gallery this week and asked Susanna to tell her he was busy if she ever rang again! He was sure that she would get the message that he didn’t want to talk to her.  
But as he saw Eliza enter the room, beautiful and expensively turned out as usual, he reminded himself to never again underestimate the impudence of an impudent woman. 

Tom, who had always found Eliza charming, seemed delighted to see her and entered the room with an unabashed declaration of 

“Look who’s come to the Regatta this year, Sidney! We're so glad you thought to come by and say hello before the events start, Eliza. It must be almost fifteen years! Sanditon has changed for the better, since you were last here, you’ll have noticed! It’s becoming almost fashionable!”

Eliza laughed and nodded and said all the right things, aware of her influence with Tom and certain that Sidney could not help but be reminded of all the good times in their history once they spent the day together at the Regatta as they had so many times before. She greeted Sidney with a double kiss and shook Charlotte’s hand indicating with a dismissive wave of her hand that they had met briefly before, but that she was of no importance.

Sidney and Charlotte, however, were both struck dumb by her presence. The former with shock, and the latter with a sad realisation that things between Sidney and Eliza had progressed much further over this past week than she'd dared to think.

Charlotte’s fears were further confirmed by Eliza’s saying,

“Oh Tom, it's lovely to see you again as well. I really did miss Sanditon! Some of my happiest memories were made here, of course!” She looked at Sidney and smiled significantly, adding

“When Sidney was at my place the other night, he reminded me of the Regatta and suggested I come down for old time’s sake!”

Sidney’s shook his head slightly and snorted; his shock turned to anger. It was just like her to imply such a thing! She always had a way of ignoring inconvenient facts and of twisting situations to her advantage. She misused everyone’s politeness to her own ends, making it impossible to confront her. He most certainly did not invite her to the Regatta, and now not only did it look like he spent the night at her place last week but also that they were rekindling their relationship. He was utterly dumbfounded by her audacity. What would Charlotte think?

As it turns out, Charlotte did not wait around much longer to let him know what she thought. Marion and the children arrived at that moment and although Marion froze, her face darkening and her lips tightening at the sight of Eliza, she remained polite and offered to give her a tour around the house while Charlotte shepherded the children into the hall and out the door. In the chaos that ensued Sidney made ready to follow Charlotte out as well, hoping he could catch her before she left, but as he grabbed his jacket from the counter and moved into the hallway, Tom went after him and took him by the arm.

“Sidney, You sly dog! You didn’t tell me that you had met up with Eliza again! I am so pleased that you two are going to try to work things out. She was always the one that got away, eh? I thought you seemed a different man this morning and now I can see the reason why!”

Sidney looked at his brother incredulously. How could he, of all people, who had had to rescue and clean him up countless times after the breakup, even think that he would contemplate being with Eliza again after what she had put him through? He heard the front door close behind Charlotte and the kids and groaned inwardly. Why was there always an obstacle?! He turned to face his brother, and it occurred to him that there was a similarity between Tom and Eliza in that both were able to completely ignore the feelings of others when it came to having things their own way. He loved his brother dearly, and was indebted to him for helping when he had been at his lowest, but Tom had always been a bit selfish that way and they were all in the habit of accepting it and generally falling into line with his wishes.

“Steady on, Tom! You’re making a lot of assumptions. I did meet up with her last week, but more out of curiosity about what she had to say than anything else. Nothing happened and I certainly did NOT invite her to the regatta today! I don’t know what she’s playing at turning up here like this. I don't want her here.”

Tom looked disappointed

“Oh, well. That’s a shame. I know it ended badly between you, but I always found her rather charming. Well, perhaps you could just jolly her along today, anyhow? She’s just mentioned that she’s interested in making a rather large donation to the Assembly rooms restoration project – she mentioned a donation of half a million or more! It would really be a boon to the town if we could get the old Assembly rooms finally restored, and I am having trouble drumming up any interest from investors…”

Sidney sighed. How was Tom always able to find the right way to get to him? The restoration of the Assembly rooms had been a pet project of their mother's, and Tom had been working for years to get the funds to complete it, but as it was a project of sheer philanthropy and would only benefit the permanent inhabitants of Sanditon as a local museum or community space, serious investors were not interested.

Defeated for the moment by Charlotte’s hasty departure, and by this reminder of his obligations to his family and to Sanditon, Sidney allowed Tom to lead him back to the kitchen and to Eliza, who was waiting.


	24. Gentlemen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Babington and Esther, but also some background for Esther and Edward's relationship. A bit dark, so be warned that there are descriptions of physical and verbal abuse.

After his conversation with Esther at the cricket match, George thought a lot about that night long ago when they had kissed at the Investors party. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten about it, because he’d thought about her quite a lot at the time: how beautiful she was, how intelligent and lively and fierce, and also how vulnerable, because that evening when she suggested that they spend the night together, it was clear to him that she had likely never had sex before. 

Of course, he had wanted her and of course he was tempted, but he also knew that he wanted to get to know her better first. He didn’t want to have a quick, stolen shag with her after a drunken night out, and certainly not if it was her first time. He had fully intended to call her and take the time to get to know her better when chaos broke out, but after everything settled down he realised that he hadn’t got her number. He’d considered asking around for it, surely Sidney would know how to get it, but Sidney was an unreliable mess and didn’t know his arse from his elbow at the time. 

Once he was back at Oxford, Crowe had further dissuaded him from trying to contact her, convincing him that not only was she probably a bit too young and inexperienced for him, but also that she was probably just another posh bird looking for a good story to tell her friends about the time she lost her virginity to an "hon" at a party. That kind of thing did occasionally happen to him, and he found it repugnant every time. Likely Crowe was right, he was often very astute when he wasn’t drunk. Esther must have been at the Investors’ party the second time he went, but he had been with Josie that night and very much in love with his wife, so no doubt he did not notice her, more’s the pity. 

Babington and Francis Crowe were sat in at the bar in the Denham House hotel on the morning of the Regatta. Tom Parker had persuaded them, in his inimitable way, to come and make up the numbers in the Parkers four-man boat with Arthur as coxswain. Although it was still morning and the race was only four hours away, Crowe was already a few drinks ahead and it showed.

“Slow down Crowe, we need you fresh for the race! Maybe a glass of water next, mate. Have you been practicing?”

Crowe snorted and replied sarcastically, putting on his very best Prince Charles voice

“A gentleman never practices, Babbers. It’s tantamount to cheating!”

George laughed and cast another distracted glance around the room and into the hotel foyer beyond.

“Why do you keep looking around Babs? Tell me you are not looking for Esther Denham!”

Caught in the act, Babington was forced to deny what they both knew was the truth.

“Hmm? Ah, no. Given up on that, it was futile.” He replied rather despondently.

In truth, George need not have feared running into Esther. She knew very well that he was in town and had decided to avoid going into work, despite it being a busy weekend for the hotel. She even planned to avoid the Regatta entirely, certain that her resolve would weaken if she had to face him again so soon after the cricket match. Their conversation then had been very unsettling, and she had spent the entire week distracted and disturbed by thoughts of what it would feel like to lie in his arms again, to be kissed tenderly on the lips, shoulders, breasts by him again. She knew she wanted to be with him, but she also felt the impossibility of it, that it would break her somehow if this went wrong, and that there was so much she needed to sort out in her own life before she could have the kind of relationship he wanted from her. Her aunt had also been relentless on the subject, constantly reminding her that he was a viscount, as if that mattered at all, and insisting that she not lose this chance to snag one of the country’s richest and most eligible bachelors. 

Normally, Esther would have sneered and laughed at her Lady Denham’s old-school opportunism and snobbery, but now it just felt too pathetic and grasping to laugh at. She had also begun to recognise that Edward was becoming increasingly like their aunt: cruel, shallow, snobbish, narrow-minded. In her darkest moments she worried that some of those very qualities were growing in her own heart as well, and she recoiled at the thought. If that were true, then she really needed to make sure that George did not get involved with her – she would only find some way to destroy him in the end. Deep down, though she found it hard to admit it, Esther was also afraid that her aunt’s vulgarity diminished what she felt for Babington, what she had felt for him ever since that very first night when he had kissed her in the garden and she had been ready to have her first sexual experience with him. 

Esther fancied George Babington the first time Sidney brought him to Sanditon and then to Denham House for dinner with his parents on a school holiday many years ago. She had been an awkward, skinny little girl of 12; George was 16 and impossibly handsome and glamorous in her eyes. He and Sidney were always kind to the younger children, but they didn’t think much about anything other than heading out on the town when released from school. But when the saw each other again at the Investor’s weekend when she was 19, and she recognised in George’s eyes the admiration and desire for her that she had begun to see in the eyes of many men now she was a beautiful young woman, she made a decision that her first time would be with him, that night. 

Things had looked promising, he had been kind, and attentive and sweet, staying by her side the whole evening, dancing with her, joking with her, but never taking any liberties and talking and listening to her talk about what she’d been doing on her gap year and her plans for university. He had been so gentlemanly in fact that by the time they were walking in the garden Esther had grown desperate for him to make a move, and she eventually took hold of the lapels of his dinner jacket and kissed him fiercely. He returned her kiss with equal passion, but when she made her intention to sleep with him that night clear, he had smiled tenderly, brushed a strand of hair gently away from her face, and replied that he would like that very much but that first he would like to take her out to dinner and get to know her. He invited her to come up to Oxford to spend a day with him, and they were about to exchange phone numbers when a fight between Sidney (who had been unusually unruly that evening) and Joshua Thorpe broke out in the rose garden. Babington promised to come back and find her once he'd dealt with Sidney, but Sidney was strong and took time to subdue. Tom and Babington were forced to pull him off of Josh and practically carry him off the grounds to get him back home safely. The night was destroyed for her, and in a fit of pique she had taken the perfectly respectable, kind and quite attractive Fred Robinson home to her bed for a night of fairly underwhelming sex. She left early the next morning to spend the rest of the week at a schoolfriend’s country house in Devon and tried hard to forget how Babington had humiliated her. 

The next time she saw Babington was at the same Investors weekend party six years later. He and Sidney were in business with Susan Worcester by this time – and he was recently married. He was caught up with business acquaintances all night and seemed very much in love with his wife. He didn’t talk to Esther once or even seem to notice her at all. There had been quite a few men in her life since the night she had hoped to make George Babington her first, some better than others, but she still thought about him. That one night, which had been seared on her impressionable memory as something special, had clearly been just one kiss among many for George, and she felt utterly worthless.

An urgent banging on her front door disturbed Esther’s thoughts, and she wondered for a split second with a soaring heart, if Babington had dared to seek her out at home. However, it was Edward that was standing on the doorstep of her cottage. And he was furious.

“You stupid little bitch!!” he screamed.

Esther winced.

“What the hell is wrong with you Edw…”

He pushed past her and into the hallway uttering a stream of invectives.

“How dare you tell Aunt that I’ve been inappropriate with the hotel staff! You fucking, hypocritical little slut!”

“I did nothing of the kind. I don’t know who told her, but it could have been anyone – you weren’t exactly discreet, Edward! You need to calm down.” Esther said, trying to steady the anxiety that was growing inside her. She knew what was likely coming next and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Shut up! How dare you tell me to calm down!” His hand flew out and landed a stinging slap across her face.

“Aunt says she’s written me out of her will as a disgrace to the family, so I guess that means you will be getting everything! This was your plan all along. It’s what you always wanted isn’t it, you dumb bitch?” 

He slapped her again and she felt her lip split and her face go numb; she let that familiar feeling of escape wash over her as her mind retreated to float above the room, watching from above. It didn’t often happen that Edward was physically abusive towards her. Generally, he contented himself with a confusing mix of manipulation, insults, kindness, neediness and affection; but sometimes, when he was really angry, he hit her. He had done it since they were teenagers when their ordinary sibling arguments had grown more fraught through their aunt's emotional manipulation. 

Once Edward realised that he was bigger and stronger than her, and that there was no one to care or to stop him from taking out his own self-hatred on his sister, the threat of his violence had loomed large in her life. 

Esther had found boarding school and then university a relief, a safe haven from her brother’s rage. When she returned to Sanditon to work with him at Denham House, she had hoped that they could start afresh and put the past behind them, and for a few years everything was better. But since Clara had arrived on the scene and had stirred up Edward’s feelings of entitlement and avarice, things had got increasingly worse. She knew he would make her pay in some way for forcing him to resign, but the knowledge of the pain he was in and the suffering that was hidden under all his anger always made her forgive him and neglect to protect herself. Now, though, she knew that this had to stop, even if it meant leaving Sanditon and never coming back.

Edward seemed to find relief from two slaps today, but his stream of verbal abuse and obscenities continued until he seemed spent of them.

“You are dead to me Esther.” He screamed finally. “I can’t believe I trusted someone so conniving and disgusting and worthless.” He left her house and she closed and locked the door behind him before sliding to the floor, shaking and weeping.


	25. No Escape

Sidney made awkward small talk with Eliza, Tom and Marion for another twenty minutes, though Tom and Eliza seemed to be completely oblivious to just how awkward it was. 

He hoped that this would be enough to make Tom happy, and that Eliza would soon leave. But she seemed to have no intention of leaving no matter how many hints Marion made or how demonstrably impatient Sidney became. He decided that the only way to get free was to make an excuse and to leave. With any luck he might still be able to find Charlotte and the kids, though he had no idea what he was going to say to her now and how he was going to make clear that there was nothing going on with Eliza despite appearances. 

“Well, I should get going,” he said finally. “Susan and the others will be at the clubhouse by now and I should be there to greet them.”

Marion looked at him curiously, but Tom took no notice of the desperate tone in his voice at all.

“Of course!” he said cheerfully. “We should all get down there now anyhow. Will you join us, Eliza? Marion and the children will come up later, but I should go down to the clubhouse now too.”

Sidney could not believe this was happening and that his own brother was the instigator. Surely, he could see how desperate he was to get away from Eliza – Marion certainly did – but as ever they were all helpless before Tom’s single-minded pursuit of Sanditon’s improvement. 

It also never occurred to Eliza that her wishes might not be shared by everyone else. Marrying and divorcing Campton has given her all the money and influence she had ever desired, and now she wanted Sidney back too – he was handsome, wealthy and had a reputation as a man about town. It would be a coup to be able to click her fingers and bring him back. She had always been very successful with men – she knew she was beautiful and that men loved to have her on their arm, so why not Sidney again? What she completely misunderstood was that Sidney had loved her for all the good parts of her personality, not just for her beauty, though he may have been partially blinded by it in his inexperienced youth. His heart had broken all those years ago for the loss of the unseen parts of her that he cherished and that she seemed to want to shed as though they were meaningless. Now all he could see was an empty shell of surface beauty; she held no interest or attraction for him at all.

Sidney was forced to walk with them all the way to the clubhouse, and as Tom waved and chatted to his many acquaintances along the way, Eliza fell into step beside him.

“Who did you say that girl was, Sidney?”

“Which girl do you mean?” He asked, knowing exactly who she was referring to.

“The one who I saw you with last week and was here today when I arrived. Does she help out with the children?”

The question was innocent enough, but there was a touch of venom behind her words that was unmistakable to Sidney’s ears. He could hardly keep from staring at her with incredulity. Was this the kind of thing she was stooping to now? He fully intended his response to betray the admiration he had for Charlotte

“Charlotte? She’s a rather brilliant academic. She’s here for the summer to write her book on Sanditon’s Regency architecture, before taking up a lecturer position at Birkbeck in September. And she’s also been a very good friend – to all of us.”

Eliza considered his words carefully. Something about them, and something about Charlotte, disturbed her but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. 

“She sounds terribly serious and clever,” said Eliza. 

After a moment she decided to steer the conversation back to the more comfortable subject of their shared past. 

“This town is exactly as I remember it.”

“Hmm? Yes, at first glance, I suppose it seems that way, but nothing stays the same. Neither of us are the same people we once were for instance.”

“Aren’t we? I believe I am the same girl I was.”

“But who’s to say that I am still the same man?”

“You are! I knew it the moment I saw you in London.”

They arrived at the clubhouse and went through to the marquee on the grounds; Sidney stopped and looked down at her, he still could not figure out what she was playing at and he wanted to make it clear where he stood.

“Eliza, this trip down memory lane is all well and good, but with all of London at your disposal, I have no idea why you’re here. What appeal could a regatta in a provincial town hold for you?”

She fixed her gaze on him and smiled mysteriously.

“I am not here for the regatta, Sidney. I am here for you.”

Sidney took a deep breath, for years after they had broken up, he had dreamed of something like this happening, but now he just felt like an animal with its leg in a trap. He needed to nip this in the bud now, before things got out of hand.

“Eliza, I am flattered, but I …”

They were interrupted by a group of people she knew, and Sidney took the opportunity to slip away from her and disappear into the growing crowds. He was still hoping to catch Charlotte, but instead he found Susan in the refreshment tent with Babington and Crowe. Almost immediately Babington took Sidney aside and whispered

“Is that who I think it is over there?”

“Yes” said Sidney flatly.

Babington looked at his friend with a mixture of horror, sympathy and concern.

“For fuck’s sake, why is she here? Tell me you’re not considering reconciling with her Sid!”

“I promise you that I am not! I ran into her in London last week by chance and now she’s taken it upon herself to turn up here. I don’t know what she wants. I did not invite her!”

As he spoke Sidney suddenly caught sight of Charlotte in the distance and frowned. She was hugging Ben DuPre affectionately and they were walking away from the marquee together towards the wooded grove which led towards the official starting line.

***

Charlotte had given herself a stern talking to after this morning’s events. Not only was it clear to her that Sidney was contemplating a reconciliation with Eliza, it had also become clear that she needed to quite urgently take a step back from him in order to preserve her own sanity. Even those few minutes this morning in the kitchen before Eliza arrived, had been enough for her to hold out some hope that he might have feelings for her, and she knew she simply could not do this to herself any longer. 

After dropping the kids back at Trafalgar House, she made her way directly to the enclosure at the clubhouse. Spotting Sidney talking with Eliza, she quickly changed direction and met with Ben DuPre on her way. She was uncommonly glad to see a friendly face at that moment and gave him an affectionate hug.

There were still about two hours before the men’s amateur race. It was always the last event of the day and the only race that still followed the old course; Charlotte had promised to help set up at the starting line where the boats were moored. 

“I have to get down to the starting line to set up, will you walk to the midpoint with me?” she asked.

“Happy to” said Ben with a smile. He was really rather handsome she thought. Tall, fit and boyish looking but with a mischievous grin that was quite sexy. He was clever, kind, open and an immensely talented architect too. Why couldn’t she fall for someone like him, she thought to herself as they turned to walk along the grounds together.

“You seem to have found your way into the centre of things here in Sanditon, Charlotte! Every time, I come back you’re involved in some local event.”

Charlotte smiled, she hadn’t thought of it that way, but it was true.

“I think it’s impossible to know Tom Parker and avoid being pulled right into helping him with his plans for Sanditon!” 

She said with a laugh, but after a pause she added more pensively, 

“But I guess I’m also grateful for the distraction at the moment.”

“Distraction? From what?”

She sighed,

“My own thoughts, I suppose.”

Ben was curious now,

“What kind of thoughts?”

Charlotte paused, she needed to talk to someone but was Ben really the right person?

“Umm, it’s difficult to say.” She murmured non-committally.

Ben smiled.

“Well, if there’s anything you need to talk about, Charlotte. I am a great listener. Who knows, we might even be having similar thoughts.”

She laughed.

“I doubt that. You’re far too sensible to fall for someone who’s not interested in you.”

Ben frowned and looked at her seriously.

“How do you know that person is not interested? For all you know your feelings might be returned five times over.”

Charlotte shook her head resignedly.

“I thought so for a brief moment, but I can’t really delude myself any longer.” She shook her head and smiled, “But it doesn’t matter, there’s nothing to be done about it.”

Ben studied her face in silent concern, and suddenly it dawned on him that she could only be talking about Sidney Parker. He knew they had had difficulties when they first met, but he had also seen them at the cricket match before they both disappeared, and in retrospect it was clear there was something between them. He felt a stab of jealousy for a moment, but mostly he just felt anger and pity that Parker could be so incredibly stupid as to throw away someone like Charlotte. He gave her a friendly hug and she looked up at him gratefully.

“You’re right Ben. You are a great listener. Thank you.” 

She left him at the midpoint to continue alone towards the spot at the bend in the river where a small tent and table had been set up near the boats. There were still a few hours before the race and she was supposed to put the oars in the boats and generally set up before the officials arrived.

The spot was beautiful and quiet, and Charlotte was grateful for the moment of solitude. Her talk with Ben had helped to calm her feelings, and now she just needed to learn to endure her disappointment. She heard a twig snap and turned to see Sidney approaching through the trees. He was carrying his jacket and had loosened his tie, and he was running his hands through his hair in that way he had when he was nervous. She took a deep breath and walked towards him.

“It’s just over an hour until the race, Sidney. I am letting all the competitors know.”

He smiled slightly, but she could see that he was in a more serious mood than earlier in the day. She wondered if it had to do with Eliza. 

In fact, when Sidney had seen Charlotte walking away with DuPre, he began to wonder if perhaps she had feelings for Ben. It had always been clear that Ben admired her, but Sidney hadn’t really thought about her returning those feelings until he had seen them just now alone with their heads bent towards each other in serious conversation.

“Thanks,” he said curtly. “Well, what do you think Charlotte? Do I look ready to you?”

He walked in her direction with a tired gesture that invited inspection, and she responded cautiously.

“I am no expert.”

“Neither am I, regrettably” he replied, looking around him for an appropriate oar. “I haven’t picked up an oar in years. Tom and Arthur usually compete at the regatta.”

“I am sure it will all come back to you.” 

He leaned over and picked up two oars, slinging them over his shoulder and turning to look straight at her. 

“I wonder.”

He moved to put the oars in a nearby boat. Charlotte brought another set to him and then turned away to walk back to the tent.

“A man cannot step in the same river twice” she heard him say behind her.

She turned back to face him.

“For he is not the same man and it is not the same river. Have you been reading Heraclitus for fun?” she said with a smile.

He laughed despite himself.

“Of course you would know that.” He paused to look at her, finding it impossible to hide his admiration. On impulse, and as casually as he could, he held out his hand, looking away for a second to steady his nerves.

“I need a second person to balance the boat. Would you mind?”

Charlotte hesitated. Was this really a good idea? Just a few moments ago she was determined to keep her distance from him and now they would be in a boat alone together.

“I am not sure if I…”

He looked up into her eyes with an almost pleading expression, but his voice was a gentle command.

“Come on.” 

No matter what her mind was telling her, she knew she could not resist that look and that voice. She put her hand in his and hopped into the boat, almost into his arms, and felt an involuntary thrill rip through her as his grip tightened around one hand to steady her, and the other brushed her waist. 

She sat down.


	26. On the River

This part of the river was calm and deserted. Sidney rowed in silence for a few minutes while Charlotte watched him and wondered what he was thinking. He avoided looking at her and seemed to be struggling with something. Assuming that it had to do with Eliza, she was determined to be the supportive friend she thought he needed. She wondered, not for the first time, how it was that she could feel so much and yet be unable to speak openly. 

This had never happened to her before. When she thought about the handful of times that she had previously felt herself to be in love, it had never felt this fraught or essential – why was this different? And why was her common sense and her self-confidence suddenly failing her now when it meant so much?

“Can I ask you something, Charlotte?” he asked suddenly. “Why is it that when I finally think I might have a chance at happiness, I can’t accept it?”

“What is it you can’t accept?”

“I just thought that I would probably always be alone, that I wasn’t fit for a relationship.”

Charlotte considered his words for a moment, pausing to steady the swell of emotion that was building in her as she realised that he must be asking her what he should do about Eliza. 

“I don’t think that anybody is truly unfit for a relationship – not even you.” He laughed softly and she continued, “When it comes to love, I suppose it’s just a question of compatibility.”

He looked at her for a moment and there seemed to be a significance in his eyes that she could not read.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He said. 

She looked down, worried that she had not been adequately supportive. She wanted him to know that she was not judging him; she wanted to give him permission, if that’s what he needed, to go for whatever he thought would make him happy.

“Sometimes we meet someone and the timing is wrong, or life gets in the way. People make mistakes when they’re young, but despite all the heartache and pain, the story isn’t really finished. What I mean is that lots of people break up and get back together.”

Sidney stared hard at her, but she averted her eyes from his gaze. He was a bit disappointed that she had misunderstood him though he had been nowhere near clear. He wanted to know what she meant.

“You think I should get back together with Eliza?”

She was surprised by his sudden directness.

“I…I…didn’t say that. I just meant that life is complicated and not always black and white. Love isn’t like a Jane Austen novel.”

“That’s very pragmatic.”

Charlotte was uncomfortable, she felt that she was chattering a bit in order to block out her uncomfortable feelings. She wasn’t even 100 per cent sure if she believed what she was saying.

“I guess so. You reminded me once that no one’s perfect. People make mistakes, they’re fallible and confused and sometimes life just happens. What I am saying is that it would be natural if you were thinking about being with her again.”

Sidney’s silence had become deafening. Why couldn’t she just stop talking, or tell him not to go back to Eliza – to pick her instead! Why wouldn’t he just say something?

“Is that what you think about your ex? The one in Cambridge?”

Charlotte was surprised. She almost wanted to laugh; the idea was so absurd.

“John? Oh god no! He is a lovely man, but that was over long ago. I was too complacent to end it, but the truth is that I was relieved when he did.”

Sidney smiled and looked off down the river. He decided to just ask her.

“What about Ben?”

“Ben?” Charlotte was startled by the direction this conversation has suddenly taken. “I...I don’t understand what you mean.”

“It’s clear he admires you.”

“Is it? Well…we’re just friends.”

Charlotte was confused. Sidney was truly one of the most confounding men she had ever met. Why would he care if Ben admired her? Despite her best efforts, she felt the flutter of hope rise in her chest again and she looked up into his eyes, which he had fixed on her with a dark look that made her heart beat faster.

“Now, it’s your turn,” he said quietly. “Give me your hands.”

There was that gentle, commanding, irresistible voice again; he took her outstretched hands and placed them on the oars between them and slowly and sensually guided them with his own in a rhythmic stroke, making adjustments and giving encouragement as she rowed. He guided her strokes so firmly and expertly that they glided easily together over the water.  
She could feel his eyes on her as she rowed, but when she looked up, he looked away. This game of cat and mouse continued for a while until, almost inadvertently, Sidney reached out to adjust her posture. 

“Keep your back straight,” he said gently. 

Sidney touched her high on the rib, thrillingly near to the side of her breast and then let his fingers slide slowly down the length of her torso, skimming her thigh as he pulled away. She felt her skin underneath the thin cotton of her summer dress come alive. 

The intimacy of his touch seemed to change things between them, and as they rowed together, their eyes locked in a look of such intensity and longing that Charlotte was sure that there could be no one else in the world but the two of them and this gently swaying boat.

It took only a half a second for that impression to be shattered, however. They had rowed a short distance from the start line towards an area along the shore where people had begun to gather. An excited voice called out from the shore, disturbing the world they had created.

“Sidney!”

Tom was standing there with Eliza, waving frantically for them to come over, and Sidney, confused and excited by what was happening and what might have happened had they been allowed to continue in peace, moved abruptly away from Charlotte sighing in frustration. Charlotte looked down, struggling to regain her equilibrium. 

If she had been only half in love before, she knew there was no turning back now, but the worst of it was that she was still not sure how he felt. When he looked at her like that, she felt certain that there was something special between them, but now they were back in a cold hard reality that included his beautiful ex-girlfriend who was standing waiting for him on the shore. 

If Sidney had any real intention of doing anything other than flirting with her, she thought, then he surely would have made it clear by now instead of playing these games! Charlotte was starting to feel a bubble of resentment growing inside her. Why was he messing her around? She couldn’t believe that he didn’t see how she felt! It must be written plainly all over her face every time they were together! Maybe he was just accustomed to women falling in love with him, maybe he even enjoyed it subconsciously. Charlotte felt like an idiot; she needed to take him at his word when he said he was not suited for relationships. 

They reached the shore and, ignoring the hand that he extended to help her out, Charlotte scrambled out of the boat without a word or a look back and walked quickly towards the refreshment tent at the midpoint.


	27. Wait, wait, wait!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the agonisingly slow burn (and I am afraid this chapter is another one, though we are moving closer), which I know seems to have gone on for ages, I have started wondering if there is an appetite for more explicit chapters for C & S when they do finally come clean to each other? 
> 
> I hadn't actually planned any explicit sex scenes when I started writing, but now I am starting to see how they would make sense within the context of this story and the way in which these two characters seem to have a connection that is unspoken and visceral. 
> 
> I have plotted out about 4-5 more chapters before this ends, but I am curious to know what people would like to read. I can't guarantee I will follow all suggestions, but it would give me a sense where this should head. 
> 
> Do you need to know in full detail how C&S "express" their feelings physically, or would you rather it remain implied and all behind closed doors? Please let me know in the comments what you think.
> 
> And, of course, thank you so much for taking the time to read this story and leave comments! I really, really love reading your feedback and your interpretations.

Charlotte had only just reached the tent and taken a glass of champagne to steady her nerves when she heard a smooth and melodious voice say her name.

“It’s Charlotte, Charlotte Heywood, correct?”

She turned to face Susan Worcester and marvelled once again at the poise and elegance of the woman. Her hair was again scraped back; she wore only red lipstick and enormous cats-eye sunglasses and today was dressed entirely in white: a belted, palazzo trouser jumpsuit that was cut down to the waist band and a white blazer with flat gold sandals. She was androgynous and womanly, sexy and elegant all at the same time. Charlotte found her riveting and was drawn to her immediately. 

“I met you at the gallery with Sidney about a month ago?”

“Yes, of course I remember. How are you, Susan?”

They shook hands and Susan smiled enigmatically. Charlotte had the distinct impression that she was being inspected and had passed some kind of test.

“I hoped to see you again.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. It’s not often that Sidney brings friends to the gallery.”

Charlotte did not really know what to say to this, she smiled slightly and followed as Susan guided them towards a quieter part of the tent. A response was not required, however. Susan lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head and fixed Charlotte with a slightly intimidating but not unkind look before saying

“Does he know yet that you’re in love with him?”

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open slightly in shock. Susan was the kind of woman who had no interest in niceties or in pretense, even if that made other people uncomfortable, but at this moment Charlotte found it freeing in a way that someone, even a stranger, recognised her feelings; nonetheless she felt the need to dissemble somewhat.

“I...I am not…”

“I am never wrong when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Well, even if I were – he’s spoken for.”

Susan smiled a slow, knowing smile and laughed slightly.

“Oh yes, I know all about Eliza Campton. A very determined and seductive woman. But I think you’ll find that there’s a significant obstacle in the way of her getting what she wants.”

“What’s that?”

“You.”

There was barely any time to respond to Susan’s comment, because they were joined by Eliza herself along with a few others in the entourage she had gathered around her upon arrival. After a few moments, Sidney, though still reeling from what had happened in the boat and by how Charlotte had jumped out and run away from him almost in anger, also joined the group. 

If only he could know what Charlotte was feeling. Sometimes it seemed like she cared, but other times she seemed disinterested and removed. They were very different, but she was like no one he had ever met, breathtakingly intelligent, kind, witty, strong, and also sexy as hell. But she was also infuriating, evasive, and had an answer for everything. Why was he so insecure around her – he didn’t have these problems with other women. Why couldn’t he just ask her more directly if she was interested in him? Or make a move to find out? He had no idea what was holding him back, but the thought of her saying no was somehow too painful to face. In a way not knowing, difficult as it was, meant that he could still pretend he had a chance.

“Lovely to see you, Susan,” said Eliza. “What are we talking about?”

Susan smiled.

“We were discussing love.” 

There was a bit of laughter in the group and some cynical comments, as people assumed that Susan was joking. But Susan almost never joked, and in this she was deadly serious. She had known Sidney a long time, and over the years she had watched his emotional world shrink to fit into the narrowest kind of box. That day in the gallery he had seemed more alive, and her ability to judge character had recognised in Charlotte someone whole and vital, someone who could crack him open and teach him to live more fully. 

There was almost nothing that escaped Susan’s notice, and of the three “boys” in the gallery, as she liked to call them, it was Sidney who worried her the most. It wasn’t a maternal concern, she wasn’t a maternal woman, it was more like a human distaste for watching someone waste their capacity for life and for love. Behind his gorgeous face, his intelligence, his commanding but gentle swagger, and his undeniable sexual appeal, she saw a vulnerable man who was terrified of disappointing or of being disappointed in love. It had been allowed to go on long enough in her opinion. Sidney needed to grow up, or he would risk losing a woman who was truly worth loving and regret it forever. She turned her sharp eyes towards him and said

“What is your opinion Sidney?”

He glanced inadvertently at Charlotte and said.

“I am no authority, I 'm afraid.”

“Ah!” she replied, and Eliza, seeing an opportunity to humiliate Charlotte and to remove a woman she had begun to realise was her competition, turned to her and addressed her for the first time.

“What about you?”

Charlotte steeled herself. She met Eliza’s cool gaze and shrugged,

“No point in considering it until you’ve found the right person, I suppose.”

“Yes, it must be a terribly dull subject for an academic woman. You’re far too intelligent to worry about love I imagine. Too many other important things to busy yourself with – archives, books, and the like. I never understood the point of all that research though, why not save time and look up what you want to know on Wikipedia!” 

There was some tittering at this joke, and Charlotte smiled.

“On the contrary, there’s quite a lot to consider on the subject from an academic point of view: the ancient Greek concepts of storge, filia, eros, agape and xenia; the third-wave feminist belief that romantic love, as it’s sold to women through the media, is a construct of internalised patriarchal norms; or the Marxist view that our need to possess another person is merely a reflection of accelerated consumerism in a capitalist society. The possibilities are endless really.”

Eliza felt she was being made fun of a bit here, but she wasn’t finished with Charlotte just yet. While Sidney had avoided being alone with her today, he openly sought out interactions with Charlotte, and Eliza, who was not used to being ignored or thwarted in her wishes, found it extremely annoying. She was confident that she could negate this little nobody by sparkling just a bit more.

“Well, you’ve exactly proven my point. You must find us all unspeakably tedious and shallow.” 

She turned to Sidney and smiled up at him conspiratorially. “Don’t you agree, Sidney?”

Sidney was startled. He had considered intervening but realised with admiration that Charlotte could handle herself just fine; she was equal to anything and he loved her for it. Eliza was waiting for a reply, however, and everyone seemed to be watching him expectantly. How could he let Charlotte know that he admired her, that he was on her side and always would be. He remembered their previous conversation and said with an affectionate and confiding smile.

“I have no doubt that Charlotte would much rather be somewhere reading Heraclitus.” 

Eliza and her friends laughed heartily. Charlotte looked up at him, her beautiful eyes full of hurt, and he knew he had somehow missed the mark. He had wanted to remind her of their earlier conversation, to let her know that he admired her and respected her, that her intelligence and curiosity were precious to him; but she had misunderstood, and his heart twisted in his chest at the thought.

Charlotte turned back to Eliza and said with quiet dignity.

“You’re quite right. What could I possibly have in common with anyone here? Excuse me, I have to get back to the starting point.”

She turned and walked quickly out of the tent towards the trees on the other side of the enclosure, desperate to get away before the tears that were coming became too obvious. She could feel that after everything that had happened today, after all the ups and downs in her feelings, a dam had broken inside of her and there was no more room for pretense or for concealment.

She got past the marquee and was heading back towards the start line for the race when she heard Sidney call her name.

“Charlotte!”

She stopped and turned to face him knowing that the tears were already there and that she couldn’t hide them even if she wanted to. 

“The race is about to start. I need to get back, excuse me.” She said in a shaky voice.

She turned again to walk away from him, but the sight of her tears filled Sidney with something indescribable. He couldn’t let her go.

“Wait, wait, wait, Charlotte. Just give me a minute.” He reached out and touched her arm and she stopped again, turning with a sigh of exasperation.

“Well?”

He had never seen her like this. She was usually so in control. He just wanted to hold her now. He stepped toward her reaching out feebly as though he might pull her into his arms, but she evaded his touch and he dropped back immediately.

“I don’t think that came out well back there. I… I hope that you weren’t offended. Listen, Eliza’s no match for you. Don’t let her get to you. She was only joking.”

“Is that all I am to you? A source of amusement?” 

He was surprised by the anger and sadness in her voice; surely she knew she was more than that.

“No, of course not. You’re…” The look of pain in her eyes was more than he could bear. “I am so sorry.”

“No. I am grateful to you really. Now I know what you really think of me.” 

She turned and walked quickly away. Why did she always jump to conclusions and twist his words? But also, why couldn’t he say what he felt? What was it that he actually felt? All he knew was that he couldn’t let her leave like that, and he stepped forward, reaching for her again. 

“Charlotte!!”

“What?! What is you want from me, Sidney?” she cried in anguish. 

Her angry tears were flowing freely now, and Sidney froze. In that moment he knew the answer to that question, and that it was something he had only partially understood before now: he wanted her, all of her. He loved her. And her face was a declaration of the feelings she had for him too. She had given him the power to hurt her, and it was the very last thing he wanted to do. The realisation washed over him in a wave of joy, fear and desire. But in the moment that he took to process what was happening to him, Charlotte said in a defeated tone,

“Please, just leave me alone!”

She turned and disappeared among the trees.


	28. Aftermaths

Babington watched while Crowe snuck one last pint in before the race. He shook his head incredulously, and it occurred to him that he had spent a large part of the last fifteen years making sure that one or the other of his two best friends stayed out of trouble and on the straight and narrow. He sighed and smiled indulgently. How he had become the well-adjusted, sensible one of the three was a mystery. The race was due to start soon, and he knew that he and Crowe needed to head down to the boats in ten minutes, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Edward Denham come into the tent and move towards them. Personally, he could not stand Denham: a more self-involved, entitled, scheming, prat could barely be imagined, but he was Esther’s brother and that made him a person of some interest. 

Babington saw immediately that Edward was already half-way drunk and barely able to conceal it, and he allowed himself to wonder if Edward’s sudden appearance also meant that Esther would be there too. He knew her too well not to have recognised that she was avoiding him this weekend, and it made him a bit sad. He had considered sending her a message asking to meet as friends, but he also knew that it was a feeble pretense and he needed to respect that she had asked him to stay away from her. With his panama hat tipped back on his head, Edward stumbled towards them and grabbed a bottle of champagne from a nearby ice bucket, clumsily filling his own glass before sloshing it towards Babington and Crowe.

“Hi Edward,” said George somewhat amused by his drunken slurring. 

But his amusement was cut short by Edward's next words.

“A word to the wise Babington, you should know my sister is utterly deluded. She’s been making the most preposterous slurs against me to our aunt all in a bid to steal my inheritance. I’ve told the bitch that I won’t take it anymore. She’s dead to me. You’re welcome to her!”

Babington felt a blind fury take him over. He grabbed Edward by the shirt and shook him violently.

“What the fuck did you just call her?! I swear I will stuff that hat down your throat if you ever speak about her that way again.” 

Crowe, suddenly sober and alert, stepped in.

“People are looking, Babs. Come on, let him go. He’s drunk; it’s not worth it. Come on.”

Crowe managed to pull George away from Edward who, shocked and frightened by Babington’s sudden and uncharacteristic violence, stumbled back and disappeared into the crowd. Crowe put his arm around Babington and moved him towards the boats, but as they walked down to the water Edward’s words were still ringing in his ears.

“Why would he say that about Esther, Crowe? I knew he was arse, but I thought that at least he respected his own sister!”

“Who cares, man! Edward’s not even worth thinking about.”

Crowe’s reassurances did not satisfy Babington, and he felt a nagging worry growing in his stomach. Clearly Esther’s relationship with her brother was as toxic as her relationship with her aunt. His heart ached when he thought about how lonely and isolated she must feel. No wonder she was so reluctant to trust him when he said he had feelings for her, and her distrust must have been confirmed by what had happened between them so many years ago too. He groaned inwardly. What could he do to make this better?

She and Edward had clearly had some kind of confrontation, and George felt he couldn’t rest until he was sure that Esther was okay, even at the risk of making her angry. He needed to tell her that she would always have him as a friend even if she didn’t want anything else. But first he had to fulfil his promise to Tom and get through this bloody rowing race.

***

Sidney was prevented from going after Charlotte by Tom and Arthur’s appearing and walking with him down to the starting point. The three brothers walked together and while Tom and Arthur talked strategy, Sidney kept his eyes fixed on Charlotte’s yellow dress moving quickly ahead of them through the woods. He knew he needed to speak with her and explain. The look in her eyes just now had removed all of his hesitation and uncertainty; he’d been an idiot and a coward to wait so long, and now he’d hurt her. She seemed to have mistaken his fear and confusion for – he wasn’t sure what exactly – thoughtless flirting? or purposefully messing her around? The thought made him feel physically ill; she needed to know how he felt, and he was going to make it happen today at all costs. He couldn’t let her go another day in doubt of where he stood no matter how anxious it made him feel.

The preamble, the race itself, and the trophy ceremony afterwards were little more than a blur to Sidney. Their team had made a good showing, but in the end another more deserving crew won it. Tom was happy with their effort despite the fact that Crowe had clearly had one too many and Babington and Sidney seemed distracted. All that Sidney remembered about the hour that followed was how Charlotte avoided him and refused to meet his eye, moving away whenever he came near her, and eventually disappearing entirely without saying goodbye or letting anyone know where she had gone. After searching for her a bit, he finally asked Marion if she knew where she had gone. Marion looked at him with gentle and sympathetic eyes. 

“She said she was tired, and she was going home. But you know Sidney, I realised this morning that she left that folder of documents you brought from London in the library. Would you do me a favour and drop them off at her flat this evening? She wanted to get started on it as soon as possible, but I promised that I would meet a few friends at the clubhouse for dinner tonight.”

He smiled and nodded. Marion gave his arm an affectionate squeeze before turning away from him to greet an acquaintance. Sidney made his way toward the exit with a clear plan in his head about what he was going to do next, but there was one more obstacle in his way. One that he had forgotten about until now but acknowledged that he had been avoiding dealing with head on for fear of what it might stir up. He was not afraid anymore though.

He found Eliza waiting for him near the clubhouse, and decided to face her and finally end this charade.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he said.

“I’ve waited fifteen years, what’s another quarter of an hour? Now I’ve found you again, Sidney, I can scarcely let you out of my sight. Fate has given us another chance, and I always believed that it would.”

Despite himself, Sidney was touched by her admission. It was brave thing to say to him after all this time, and he wanted to honour that and to honour their past while also making it clear that they had no future.

“Eliza, I can see how it may look that way to you, but I am not the twenty-one-year-old that you remember. I wish you well – I really do – and I will always have fond memories of the good times we had together when we were so young, but that is all in the past and I have no desire to revisit it.”

“I am not talking about the past anymore, Sidney. I am talking about the future, our future together just as we are now, with the benefit of maturity and hindsight.”

“No Eliza,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “No. There is no future for us. I have no feelings for you at all beyond your being someone I knew long ago. I am in love with Charlotte, and there’s no one else I could possibly contemplate being with.” 

It felt good to say it out loud and he couldn’t help but smile to himself at the relief and joy of it.

Eliza gave a sharp intake of breath.

“I see.”

***

With the race and the trophy ceremony finally over, Babington made a dash for his car, throwing a hasty apology over his shoulder to Crowe, who merely rolled his eyes at him and waved him away with a knowing grin. 

Though he had never been to Esther’s house, he knew that it was a renovated cottage on the west side of the Denham grounds and found it fairly easily. His Tesla roadster pulled into her drive in a cloud of swirling road dust and he jumped out and knocked on her door, wondering what he was going to say when and if she answered. After what seemed an eternity the door opened, and Esther stood looking at him in silence holding an ice pack to her cheek and lip.

“Oh my god, Esther.” He gasped moving into the hallway without thinking or waiting for an invitation. “What happened?” He reached out to touch her face and saw her close her eyes in anticipation of pain. He gently pulled the hand holding the ice pack away and saw the beginning of a bruise forming under her eye.

“Is it possible? Did …did Edward do this to you??” He whispered. He was almost afraid to ask, as it seemed unthinkable.

Esther said nothing, but her look told him everything he needed to know.

“I am going to fucking rip his head from his body!! I swear, by the time I’m through with that fucking arsehole, he’s going to wish he’d never been born!!” he bellowed in a rage. 

He turned back to the door, fully intending to find Edward and beat him to within an inch of his life, but Esther put her hand on his arm, laughing and wincing all at the same time. 

“Dial down the machismo, Babington!” she said both grateful and teasing. “I’ve already been in contact with the police, and they’ve issued a protection order. I reported it the last time Edward did this two years ago, so there’s also a record of his previous abusive behavior. But this time I am going to press charges and make sure that he never, ever comes near me again.”

“The last time?” Babington was filled with horror at her words and the realisation of what they meant.

Esther nodded, and a deep sadness came into her eyes. George reached out and drew her into the safe haven of his arms. As he held her tightly, she finally let go and cried out many years’ worth of fear and sadness into his collar. As he held her, he said 

“I just want you to know that I came here without any expectations. I am here as your friend and I will always be here as your friend, whatever happens. You’re not alone Esther. I am here. And I am still going to beat the shit out of Edward if I ever I see him again!”


	29. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pour yourself a glass of wine... things are going to get real between Sidney and Charlotte.  
> Also, don't read this at work.
> 
> More of the same next chapter and then who knows...

By the time Sidney found himself walking along the promenade, the day had long since disappeared over the cliffs leaving only a sky that was bruised by the setting sun. He had the documents for Charlotte under his arm, and though he considered stopping to have a smoke to calm his nerves he was too fearful of anything that might prevent him from getting to her or that might even slow him down. There had been far too many hurdles and obstacles between them and he didn’t want to risk anything else happening. With his luck he’d be struck by lightning or hit by a falling rock on her doorstep!

He looked up at the windows of her flat and was relieved to see that the lights were on; not only was she in, but she must also be awake. Now that he knew what he wanted to say to her, he was not sure that anything could deter him, but he was glad nonetheless that she was up.

Standing in front of her building staring at the neat row of buzzers, Sidney suddenly realised how anxious he was. He took a deep breath, pressed her button with a shaking finger, and waited. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Sidney. I wanted to drop off that folder of documents you left at Trafalgar House this morning.”

There was a pause.

“Thanks, but I can pick them up tomorrow. Just leave them there.”

Sidney sighed, and decided to dispense with the pretense.

“Please Charlotte. I need to talk to you. Can I come up? I won’t stay for long.”

There was another pause, and after a moment he heard the buzz of the latch. 

Climbing the steps to her apartment, Sidney was aware of the sound of his heart beating in his ears and that the adrenaline was coursing through him so intensely that his hands were shaking.

When he reached the third floor where her apartment was located, Charlotte was waiting for him in her doorway. She was barefoot, he noticed her toenails were painted red, and she wore a stained oversized man’s shirt and a pair of cut-off jean shorts. Her long dark hair was down and a bit messy, and her eyes looked tired and red. This must be her casual, hanging out at home look, he thought; he found it unbelievably sexy, though he admitted to himself that at this point he probably would have found her sexy in a unicorn onesie. 

Thanking him, she took the folder and turned to put in on a table inside near the door.

“You didn’t have to bring it over in person.” She said rather coldly, avoiding his eyes. 

“I wanted to,” he said simply. 

Charlotte felt annoyed that he would intrude upon her at home. Was she never to find sanctuary from him? If he had no serious feelings for her, then why did he keep searching her out like this? Did he just enjoy the ego boost it gave him? 

“I thought you and Eliza would be on the road back to London by now.” 

Sidney grimaced.

“I don’t know why you’d think that.”

Charlotte became impatient. She just needed him to leave now so that she could go back to crying her eyes out in peace. Why did he feel the need to torture her like this? She sighed in exasperation, unable to refrain from a bitingly sarcastic rely.

“Well maybe because she turned up this morning at your invitation, this afternoon you asked me to help you rationalise getting back together with her, and then you spent the day escorting her around. Am I missing something?”

This riled Sidney a bit. None of that was exactly true; Charlotte was jumping to conclusions, as she always did.

“Yes, you are actually! I didn’t invite Eliza, despite what she implied. She came on her own! But Tom wanted me to be polite to her because she told him she might invest in the Assembly rooms restoration project. I know it’s stupid, but I have a hard time saying no to him…the Assembly rooms were our mum’s pet project and ... anyhow…I wasn’t asking you if I should get back together with her…I was …I was – very clumsily, I see that now – asking you to give me a reason not to!”

“What are you even talking about, Sidney? It has nothing to do with me! You either want to be with her or you don’t!”

“Well, I don’t as a matter of fact! And I’ve told her that now – twice! God, Charlotte – you’re not going to make this easy are you!?” 

He ran his hands through his hair in sheer exasperation and nerves. No one had the ability to rattle him like she did.

“For someone so bloody smart you can be really stupid!”

“OK. Well, I think we’re done here...” she said coldly, moving to close the door. Sidney put out his hand to stop it.

“Wait, Charlotte,” he said more gently, taking a deep breath. 

“Please. I’m sorry. I don’t want to argue. I ... can’t you see … I mean, don’t you know the effect you have on me?” 

He looked at her with pleading eyes, and stepped forward, slightly more confident, when he saw her defiant angry look turn surprised and then emotional. 

“I think you do, actually.” 

Charlotte dropped her eyes; she could feel her hands starting to shake as Sidney continued.

“It has everything to do with you! You know …you have to know that I couldn’t possibly be with Eliza when you are all I think about – where you are, how you feel, what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, who you’re with. I think about you all the time when I am not with you. I have done for months, sometimes I can’t sleep for thinking about you. And when I am with you, I am just … better. Time sort of stops and … god, I wish I could be more eloquent.”

He stopped for a second to collect himself, and then he looked up to find her staring at him, waiting.

“Look, we both know I am far from perfect. It’s just... I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time, maybe ever, and if you feel anything similar for me, I hope you will give me a chance to show you that we could be…”

Charlotte moved forward and placed her hand gently on his chest, looking up into his eyes. He searched for any signs of doubt and finding none, he reached his hands up to cradle her face, tangling his fingers in her hair. 

Then he bent towards the beautiful lips that he had been dreaming of for months and caught them in a slow and gentle kiss. They both shuddered as he held her lower lip briefly between his own before pulling back to lightly brush her lips and savour the taste and smell of her. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Sidney wrapped one arm firmly around her waist and kissed her again with more intensity. She returned his passion with a hunger that thrilled him. Charlotte let her hands reach into the back of his hair, opening her mouth and feeling their tongues touch. Without thinking he pushed her gently back into the doorframe pressing himself against her, willing her to feel how much he wanted her, steadying them both with his hand on the wall by her head. She closed her eyes as his mouth moved down to the soft skin of her neck and collarbone which was exposed by the undone top buttons of the man-sized shirt she was wearing.

“Who the hell does this shirt belong to?” he growled into her neck possessively. 

His hands were already moving underneath it and up her back. 

“It’s yours, dummy!” She murmured, smiling. “Don’t you recognise it?” 

He raised his head and looked at her in surprise, delighted that she had kept his shirt and had been wearing it all this time. Laughing softly, he kissed her again but his urgency shocked him a little bit. If kissing her felt like this, then what would it feel like to lose himself in her? She felt his hands soft on the skin of her back, holding either side of her ribs under the shirt and his fingers creeping under the band of her bra. Her hand slipped under his shirt in response and then dipped down into the waistband of his trousers running teasingly along his hipbone. He shuddered and groaned, pulling back from her slightly to rest his forehead on hers. 

“Can I come in?” he whispered. 

She smiled and nodded. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him inside her apartment and closed the door. 

***

Once inside and finally alone with no one to disturb or interrupt them they paused and looked at each other in silence. Charlotte suddenly felt shy. She wanted him in a way that was new. There was an intensity and hyper alertness to her desire that she had never felt before and it unnerved her – a bit like the moment before jumping off a cliff into the water far below. Once your feet leave the ground there is no turning back, but there are so many things that could go wrong on the way down. 

Sidney looked at her. 

“I can see you thinking, Charlotte. Tell me what’s wrong.” He kissed her hand encouragingly though he felt slightly afraid of what she might say.

“Nothing’s wrong. I want this. I want you. I’m just worried about what it means and what comes next. I don’t just want a fling, and you said you don’t do relationships, so what are we….”

Sidney squeezed her hand and said seriously. “I know. I know I said that, and it was true before. But just to be clear, with you I don’t want just one night or something casual; I want to be in a relationship, with everything that entails. So, if you want to go slow, or if you want me to leave tonight, I will, but please don’t just run away from me again because of something that’s going on in your head. Talk to me. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

Charlotte smiled at his words. It was the most honest they had ever been with one another about their feelings, and it made her feel confident again and safe. She pulled him towards her and whispered something in his ear. Sidney looked down at her and nodded, his eyes full of emotion. He lifted her chin to kiss her tenderly and she returned his kiss, running her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. 

They moved towards her bedroom and Charlotte pulled his jumper over his head and threw it down. He watched her hands move slowly and admiringly along the muscles in his shoulders and arms and her fingers run through the dark hair on his chest. Her palms slid down his torso towards his navel, until she reached his hipbones and the top of his trousers, which were visibly straining. He held his breath, waiting for her to release him and when she finally did, unbuttoning him with nimble fingers and pushing his trousers and his shorts down to watch them tumble to his feet and be kicked aside, he closed his eyes and exhaled with relief. She reached around his waist and put her hands on his bum, pulling him down towards her on the bed.

Sidney then began the process of unbuttoning her shirt while also making sure that his lips and tongue never stopped exploring her mouth. His hands and fingers were not so nimble or patient as Charlotte’s, however, and the last few buttons were mostly torn off, scattering and skidding across the floor like pebbles. Charlotte laughed in his mouth. He tossed the shirt into the corner and caught her up in his arms smiling into her hair, kissing the soft skin of her neck and shoulders. The sight of her in her bra and cut-off shorts made him wild with desire. Her beautiful breasts strained within their confines, and he buried his face in them revelling in the scent and softness of her. In a moment of frenzy, he pulled the lace of her bra down to expose her full creamy breasts and rose-coloured nipples, gently pinching and stroking them to elicit the most sensual gasps and sighs. He reached around and unclasped her bra expertly and threw it aside.

“Charlotte. You are so beautiful,” he breathed as he climbed over her and lifted one nipple to his mouth, flicking his tongue across it and drawing it fully in to suck on before moving to the other to do the same. Charlotte arched her back toward him groaning and grasping his biceps, searching for contact with his skin and muscles. He undid and removed her shorts and underpants with a ferocity that both amused and aroused her, and then he sat back to gaze at her: her breasts which moved slowly up and down with her ragged breath, her nipples red, moist and glistening from his mouth, the curve of her waist and belly, the dark triangle of hair between her thighs. He had dreamed of her for so long that the sight of her like this was enough to make him want to cry. 

Now both completely naked, they lay together on the bed, looking into each other’s eyes and taking their time exploring each other fully. Sidney enjoyed watching her respond to his touch, to the light movement of his fingers on her collarbones, the small of her back, her breasts, her bum. Charlotte moved back slightly so that she could look at him. She grazed her fingernails lightly over his back and waist, over the muscles on his chest and hip. She kissed his neck and traced the trail of hair further down his torso before reaching to hold and stroke his length, watching his eyes close and his beautiful face contort with ecstasy at the feel of her warm searching fingers. 

He drew an arm around her waist and pulled her roughly to him, pressing his arousal against her for a moment before moving her beneath him on the bed. Though his kisses became fiercer, rawer and more urgent, she matched his pace effortlessly, opening her mouth to his tongue and nipping on his bottom lip in a way that made him want to lose control. He started on her neck and trailed his tongue down through her breastbone and again onto her nipples. His mouth hummed on her skin in satisfaction as he worked his way further down; he encircled her waist with both hands, and she arched her back and gasped as he gently parted her legs, stroked her quivering waist with his thumbs reassuringly before bending his head to his work. 

Her stuttering cry as his mouth touched her was the most erotic thing he had ever heard, and she writhed and arched with every movement of his tongue. Her honey was irresistible, and his tongue entered her over and over, searching and urgent, until her cries echoed through the room. She was coming so close to climax that he drew back a moment to slow things down. Gasping in disappointment, Charlotte bucked her hips shamelessly towards him, encouraging him to continue. Instead he stroked her wet pearl gently, and she shuddered and reached up to touch his hair and rub her thumb across his lips.

“Sidney…please,” she whispered. “…I can’t bear it.” Her eyes were hooded with desire now and it took every ounce of his self-control not to thrust himself into her and explode into her warmth. 

“All in good time, Charlotte.” Sidney said with a smile. He had enough experience to know he was a good lover. He knew how to give and receive pleasure without embarrassment, but never before had he felt this much desire to please, to wring out every ounce of joy from the night. 

He began his gentle stroking of her again, and she rocked until she was pushing against him in a wanton frenzy, and he could stand it no longer. He had to feel her around him now. He put on a condom and holding her hips firmly slid easily into her wetness. Both gasped in pleasure and joy at their joining, and they gazed into each other’s eyes without moving for a moment. Sidney steadied himself on his forearms above her and they kissed tenderly and slowly, fully enjoying this moment of first connection. 

He moved leisurely at first, watching her face closely all the while, and Charlotte lost herself in the ecstasy of being filled by him, the steady rhythm of his movement as they rocked gently together, and his weight on her. He watched as her beautiful face transformed into one of pure sensation and then let himself go too. The feel of her was extraordinary. He thrust into her slowly and steadily, pulling out and then plunging back in long smooth strokes, and with each of his thrusts her hips raised to meet him, taking all of him over and over again. The wet sound of their bodies coming together made them wild with desire. Charlotte wrapped her legs around his hips pulling him closer to her, gasping and moaning loudly as he hit that wonderful spot deep inside her over and over again and she thought she might tip over the edge of sanity. The room was filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, of the creaking bed, of their cries of pleasure and their tender intimate whispers; Charlotte felt that she never wanted it to end. He was so close, but he had to see her come first. Still in her, he cupped her ass in his hands and pulled her roughly up and toward him. She gasped and dug her nails into his back and his thrusts quickened pace, she arched her back and called his name in release and joy, and he let himself come too, exploding into her with a roar.

They rocked together afterwards, holding each other tightly, shuddering and throbbing and not wanting to let each other go. He touched his damp forehead to hers, kissing her gently on the lips. There was so much he wanted to say, but it was too soon.

“I am so happy.” He whispered.

“Me too.” 

He kissed her forehead and nose and slipped out of her, and they spent the next few hours lying in bed laughing and exchanging stories about their childhoods, their families, their past experiences, and travels. Charlotte talked about growing up on a farm with six siblings and about her best friend and sister Alison who had just qualified as an architect and was now studying in Switzerland for a year. Sidney talked about his parents and what they had been like and how much he sometimes missed them. Charlotte was touched by what he told her. It seemed as if these were emotions that he had never put words to before. He was on his back looking at the ceiling with one arm folded beneath his head, and she was lying in the crook of his other arm which was wrapped around her, listening quietly to the low and sometime sad tone of his voice as he spoke. She kissed his forearm and he reached his free hand around to turn her face towards him. He needed to feel her lips again he realised. This kiss was deeper and more meaningful and tender than any before and they explored each other’s mouths for what felt like an eternity. 

Charlotte reached down to touch him and found that he was ready again; he put a condom on, and she turned and pulled him towards her, nestling her back into him. He curled himself around her and found her wet and ready for him too and slipped into her easily from behind, reaching around her to massage her pearl and her breasts and to gently nip her shoulder. She gasped as his fingers pinched her nipples gently and then arched her back against his chest, reaching around to grab his neck behind her and rub her cheek against his stubble. She pushed her bum back aggressively against his hips and listened to his groan of pleasure.

“Oh Charlotte” he moaned quietly.

One of his hands held her breast while the other moved to massage her most sensitive spot. As he rocked slowly into her, taking his time with each exquisite thrust into her core, his fingers moved gently and rhythmically across her, bringing her higher and higher. She moaned louder and cried out, moving more frantically against him, but he refused to rush. She pushed her bum back into his thrusting hips, enjoying the sensation of him filling her from this direction, and then up again against his moving fingers over and over until she was blinded by her own pleasure and came shuddering and calling his name again. He moved to hold her hips steady and then thrust firmly into her, once, twice, three times before exploding in his own release with a groan.

They collapsed and after a few more minutes of gentle kissing fell into a deep and peaceful sleep entangled in each other and in the bedclothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have been asked about why I added the condoms to the scenes and whether I thought it ruined the mood. It’s a personal thing I guess, but I always find it really weird and jarring that it’s never mentioned in these kinds of stories, because it seems like such a natural part of sex, especially nowadays. I tried to just keep it simple instead of describing where it came from and whose it was - just suffice to say that a 28-year old single woman who has a Tinder account and is talking about getting out there with her friend (see convo with Esther in an earlier chapter) is going to have condoms in her room (or she should)! Sorry if it felt strange to read, but it felt natural to me that it should be there! Love that this is a fanfic conversation topic though! Brilliant! 😂


	30. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this chapter before I wrote the previous one, so I hope I haven't missed some important continuity detail. Thank you so much for all the comments! You've been very encouraging! I have never written anything like this before, but I feel that I might be getting the hang of it now. It's possible I could squeeze in another sexy chapter before this story ends if it feels natural, but I can't promise anything. 
> 
> We shall see. For now, however, onwards...  
> Enjoy.
> 
> Again, don't read this at work guys!

Charlotte woke the next morning and looked at Sidney lying peacefully beside her. His face boyish again in sleep. She gently kissed his forehead and his parted lips, and he shifted, throwing a heavy leg across her and pulling her closer in one swift movement. She felt his morning erection on her thigh and smiled to herself, nestling into the safety of his chest, wrapping her arms around him and making a study of his sweet face to remember later when he was back in London and she was alone again. His eyes flickered open and a drowsy smile spread across his face as he saw her looking at him. It had not been a dream then, she was here, they had shared a bed and a night beyond all expectations. This woman who had utterly beguiled him almost from the start and who had seemed so out of reach only a few weeks ago was now here naked in his arms.

“Good morning” she said.

“A very good morning,” he replied huskily, burying his head in her neck and pressing his lips softly to the shoulder that he had first wanted to kiss when they danced at the Investors’ party. She reached down to stroke him and enjoyed how his breathing hitched at her ministrations. 

“No regrets then?” She said teasingly.

“Are you fucking kidding me? No!!” he growled into her neck.

***

A few hours later they had eaten, showered, and dressed. Charlotte was now sitting at the table with her glasses on and her laptop open, transcribing some of the documents from the folder, and Sidney was lying stretched out on the sofa trying to concentrate on reading the newspaper. After a futile thirty minutes of reading the same paragraph over and over again he gave up and threw it on the floor, shifting on to his side and resting his head in his hand to watch her work.

He felt indescribably happy – undressing Charlotte, kissing her, feeling her skin on his, talking to her, hearing her cry his name last night and again this morning, and now just being with her quietly like this, was the most beautiful thing he had possibly ever experienced. He had never, ever felt like this before. Not with Eliza. Not with anyone. He hated that he had to return to London that evening without her.

“Stop staring at me, Sidney.” She said grinning at her computer screen. “I can’t concentrate, and there’s quite a lot in these papers that could be important!”

“Just ignore me.”

“You know that’s not possible.”

“I know nothing of the kind. I am being very quiet. If I am distracting you, that’s your problem.”

Charlotte finished the sentence she was typing and then stood up and threw her glasses on the table.

She walked over to him with a laugh and straddled him on the sofa leaning over him to kiss his lips and his neck, her hair falling like a curtain around them. Sidney’s eyes closed; he grabbed her hips and spread his hands over the bum of her jeans, adjusting her position so that she could feel his mounting desire. She moved her hips over him in slow circles and he moaned softly. Reaching up he pulled her jumper over her head in one movement, flinging it behind him, then kissed her hard and fierce, grabbing her so roughly around the waist that he feared he would leave marks. She matched his desire twice over and pushed him back into the sofa. Putting one arm on either side of his head she climbed over him, allowing her breasts in her lacy bra to move tantalizingly, hypnotizingly over his face. He caught one in his mouth, pushed down the lace, and sucked and nipped at it until she threw back her head and arched her back, moaning with pleasure. With one hand on her bum to keep her steady he reached down with the other to undo her jeans, dipping his fingers inside her underpants to rub her gently. She came undone under his hands, moving against him and he smiled up at her smugly. Seeing his triumph, she kissed him again. They both laughed as she tugged awkwardly at his jumper finally managing to pull it up over his head and drop it to the ground and then began a trail of wet kisses which moved from his neck down his torso. Before he knew what was happening, she had undone his trousers, pulled him out and taken him between her lips. Sidney cried out and raised his arms to grasp the arm of the sofa behind him as she sucked and licked, taking as much of him as she could in her mouth, tracing his tip with her tongue, and moving up and down on him until he thought he might be losing his mind. 

He squeezed his eyes closed and pushed his hands hard against the sofa arm with a guttural moan. “Fuck! Charlotte!!” 

Charlotte enjoyed being able to give him this amount of pleasure, she could feel that he was close and redoubled her efforts, moving her mouth along him and humming in satisfaction. He felt that he was nearing the edge and groaned loudly, but he wanted to be inside of her again. With a superhuman effort he pulled her off and lifted her up to his face for a bruising kiss, his hands fumbling first with her jeans, and then his own, and making short work of the pretty underwear she had put on for his benefit this morning. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist while he carried her back to the bedroom, sitting back on the bed and holding her on his lap. She reached for a condom from the box in her bedside table and put it on him, and then straddling him again and bracing herself by placing her hands either side of his head on the headboard behind him, she lowered herself slowly down. Sidney hissed in ecstasy and threw his head back, arching into her and growling with the deepest pleasure. How was it possible that she could feel so good? He looked at her glowing in the mid-morning light, her hair wild around her shoulders, her eyes closed, lips open, her back arched, and thought he’d never seen anything half so glorious as her building pleasure. He wrapped his hands around her ribs and stroked her breasts and nipples with his thumbs, bringing them to rosy peaks, and then dropped his head to kiss them until her moans almost undid him right there. The heat between them was so intense that Sidney could feel his control slipping, he held her hip with one hand and with the other held her head so they were face to face, their eyes locked in passion as they moved slowly together and into each other, kissing fiercely as if they could will themselves into becoming one person. 

“I don’t know how I am going to survive the week without you.” he growled into her ear while licking her earlobe. It took all of his self-control to let her continue to set the pace, maddeningly slow as it was. 

“I want you to think of this all week” she whispered back, pressing her forehead against his and looking into his eyes as she moved on him. “When you’re at work, in meetings, on the phone. I want you to think of this and want to leave everything and come back to Sanditon in the middle of the day to be with me.” 

He groaned almost in pain at the thought and kissed her hard, thrilling at the marks that would be left by her nails in his back and arms as a reminder of this moment. He knew he was hers completely and he wanted her to mark him. Her hips began to move faster and harder as she started to lose control. His heart soared at the sound of their mingled juices, and of their tangled moans of pleasure. Unable to hold on any longer, he flipped her back onto the bed and held her hands in his own, thrusting with abandon until they came together, and their cries filled the room.

After a moment or two of recovery, Charlotte stroked the rumpled hair on Sidney’s head which was lying contentedly on her chest and laughed. “What will the neighbours think, Mr Parker?”

“I don’t give a damn what the neighbours think.” He growled, catching her lips for another kiss. 

Then, resting his chin back on her stomach, he looked up at her and said, with no little emotion. 

“I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams, that it would feel like this.” 

He smiled into her skin, nestling closer into her warm body and kissing her stomach.

Charlotte looked down at him tenderly, curling his hair around her fingers. She wished she could tell him all she felt, but it was too early.

“What sort of dreams were you having then?” 

He laughed seductively, moving up to kiss her mouth again.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out!”

***

Realizing how late it was and that they would both be expected for Sunday lunch at Trafalgar House, Sidney and Charlotte got dressed for a second time that morning, though they were both somewhat reluctant to leave the haven they had created together or to share the few hours they had left before Sidney had to catch his train back to London. As they stepped out onto the street Charlotte suddenly felt nervous. They were going public now, and there would be no turning back; what if Sidney changed his mind or freaked out? Would she be able to bear it? Charlotte’s logical mind searched frantically for a way to take back control: maybe she needed to give him some options now. He took her hand and squeezed it.

“You’re thinking again, Charlotte.”

“How can you tell?”

“I just know. What’s wrong?”

“I just…are you sure you want to go public with this to your family right now? I mean, I don’t want you to feel pressured so soon.”

Sidney looked bemused and a little bit worried.

“Charlotte, I meant what I said yesterday. I want to be in a relationship with you, which means I want my family to know, and my friends, and my work colleagues and everyone else. If you’re not ready for that then I think you’d better tell me now.” 

“I’m sorry. Of course I am! It’s what I want. I was just worried suddenly that you felt pressured.”

He smiled again, relieved. “Nope, but let’s not overthink it, please? Can we just promise that we’ll tell each other how we’re feeling? I don’t have much practice, and I can’t say I will always get it right, but we’ve already wasted enough time being at cross purposes.”

She smiled and nodded, standing on tiptoe to kiss him tenderly. He held her against his chest for a moment and sighed in contentment. Then they turned and walked hand-in-hand towards Tom and Marion’s house.


	31. George Babington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I kind of love this chapter.

Babington stayed the night. Esther hadn’t really asked him to, but it was clear she was reluctant to let him leave and he realised that despite attempts at her usual bravado, she was probably afraid to be alone. In any case, he knew there was no way he was going to leave her until she felt safe. They spent the evening together watching a film on her laptop, but she was exhausted and eventually fell asleep with her head on his knee. Babington gazed lovingly at her peaceful face, her amazing hair, her creamy eyelids and the adorable smattering of freckles across her nose and cheek, which was only marred by the purple bruise under her left eye. 

"Fucker," he thought. "Edward Denham is going to pay for this." 

Babington scooped Esther up easily in his arms and carried her upstairs. She murmured something he couldn’t understand as he tucked her into her bed and tiptoed quietly out of the room. 

He slept on the sofa in her sitting room. It was too short for him and his legs hung over the arm, but when she came downstairs in the morning and saw that he was still there, her heart leapt with joy. George woke to the smell of coffee and the sight of Esther moving around in the kitchen wearing skinny jeans and an oversize rollneck jumper, her beautiful red hair tumbling down her back in a low ponytail. 

“Good morning,” she said softly, placing his coffee on the table beside him.

“Good morning, Esther” he replied with a smile, sitting up and reaching for his shirt.

She let her eyes linger on him for a moment, his muscular chest, his bear arms, the freckles underneath all that chest hair that you could only see if your face were pressed up against him. She missed the feel of his hands moving confidently and sensitively on her body, she missed his laugh and his boyish charm, but mostly she missed the way being with him made her feel free and safe all at the same time. 

“I suppose you have to head back to London today.”

“Well, uh actually no,” he said, slipping on his shirt and buttoning it up. “I was going to ask you about that. Sidney’s on top of most important things for the next few weeks, and then he has to go to New York next week for meetings, so I thought I might take a few days off, maybe make a few calls and listen in on a few meetings, but stay in Sanditon until Wednesday or Thursday if the hotel can extend my reservation.”

Esther smiled. She was relieved; she wanted him to stay.

“What about Tacita? Don’t you usually have Tuesdays with her?”

“She’s on holiday in France all week with Josie and her partner.”

“Ah.”

“I mean, unless you’d rather I went back to London? I…I don’t want to stay in Sanditon if you’d find it difficult or uncomfortable…”

“No Babington. I want you to stay.”

“You do?”

“And … I want you stay here with me. If you want to…”

George couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you really need to ask? Of course I want to stay with you! But, Esther, I meant what I said before, I have no expectations; there’s no pressure. I will stay on the sofa…”

She smiled non-committally.

“I’ll call Alex and ask him to arrange for your things to be brought over from the hotel.”

***

George had a shower and changed into a fresh black t-shirt that he had found in the gym bag in his car. They had breakfast and another coffee in Esther’s garden, and noticing how her face had become suddenly pensive, Babington said suddenly,

“I thought we might go for a drive up the country roads towards Worthing.” She smiled slightly and nodded. 

They headed towards his car, but Esther stopped when she saw it and laughed.

“Babington, I seriously doubt that you can handle this car!”

George smiled at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Why don’t you drive it then.” 

He tossed his keys to her and she picked them out of the air, grinning like a kid.

“Are you sure?”

George chuckled, anything was worth seeing her smile like that, he thought. He opened the driver door and jerked his head at her.

“Get in.”

***

Esther put George’s £200,000 car through its paces, and though he had a few minutes of white-knuckle terror, mostly he found it exhilarating and sexy as hell to see the pleasure it gave her. They stopped at a few remote beauty spots and walked together, sometimes in silence and sometimes talking and joking animatedly. Babington tried to distract himself from the urge he had to hold her hand or to place his hand on the back of her neck and draw her towards him and kiss her. He was glad he could be here for her as a friend, but he was also aware that he had fallen hard, and that he wouldn’t be satisfied with only friendship forever. 

Although she knew logically that she had nothing to feel ashamed of, Esther was reluctant to go anywhere she might see someone she knew with her bruised face. In the end, they stopped at a kebab shop somewhere in the outskirts of Worthing that George remembered from a long time ago.

“Still the best kebabs on the southeast coast!” George exclaimed happily, peeling back the aluminium foil on his meal. Esther laughed until tears came into her eyes.

“George, I can’t believe you know this place!”

She’d never called him George before, and he clocked it immediately.

“Are you joking? Sidney and I ranged over every part of this country in my little VW polo when we were teenagers. We used to come here on the way home after partying all night in Brighton.”

“Yes, but Lord Babington in this little kebab shop is just beyond …”

He laughed at her and said teasingly.

“You’ve been talking to your aunt too much! What sort of arsehole do you take me for? Do you think I think I am above enjoying a fucking amazing kebab just because it’s in the outskirts of Worthing? Do you think I eat fish and chips with a silver knife and fork that my valet carries around for me in a Fortnum and Mason picnic basket?” 

Esther laughed until she cried, and the thought popped into her head that she had possibly never been this happy before.

George grinned, and added more seriously.

“By the way, I know my car is ridiculous, but I just kind of love it anyhow – don’t judge me. Also, don’t ever call me Lord Babington. I hate it.”

Esther smiled back at him. She reached across the table to lay her hand gently on top of his. Then she looked into his eyes and nodded.

George drove them back in the quiet grey light of the early evening. By the time they reached Esther’s house it was almost dark, and she had fallen asleep. He walked around the car to open the passenger side and leaned over to touch her shoulder gently to wake her.

Her eyes opened and she reached up, instinctively putting her arms around his neck. She pulled him towards her and kissed him softly on the lips.

“Thank you for today.”

***

Babington had been thrilled by her kiss, but he knew she was vulnerable right now, and he didn’t want to assume that it meant anything more. He was lying on her uncomfortable sofa in the dark thinking about what it all meant and what if anything he should do about it tomorrow, when he heard Esther’s bare feet padding down the stairs and into the sitting room.

He sat up.

“Is everything alright Esther?” he whispered, half hopeful that she had come downstairs to finish what she had started earlier.

She sat next to him on the sofa. She was wearing a silk camisole and shorts and the outline of her nipples underneath the fabric in the moonlight sent a jolt of electricity through him that he worked hard to quell. 

“Tell me the truth, Babington. Now that you know about Edward, aren’t you just a little disgusted by me and afraid you’ll be tainted by the disgrace when I press charges? Aunt certainly will be, and I would understand if you were too.”

Babington was shocked by her words; he took her hand.

“Esther, No! None of this is your fault! Disgust and disgrace are words that describe Edward not you. Never you. I will be with you every step of the way through this process if you let me.” 

He paused to stroke her cheek gently, gazing into her worried eyes. 

“Don’t you know that I am in love with you?”

She looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. 

“I am not worth having,” she whispered.

George tilted her chin up to face him.

“I strongly – very strongly – disagree! But I don’t want to “have” you, Esther. I could never try to lead or constrain you. All I want is the chance to make you happy.”

Her hands came up to stroke the stubble on his cheeks and she leaned in to kiss him again, gently at first and then with a passion and urgency that teased his mouth open and brought their tongues together. She ran her hands over the muscles in his bare chest and shoulders and realised in that moment how much she needed him and how much she missed the way they fit together. He kissed her neck and her shoulders, tracing his tongue along her collarbone as his fingers slid over the smooth skin of her back and arms and under the thin straps of her camisole, but then he pulled back, flushed and breathing heavily.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She smiled and took his hand, leading him up the stairs to her bed.


	32. Sidney  & Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These last few chapters will be about how Charlotte and Sidney navigate and negotiate their own happy ever after. 
> 
> Eliza will not be jumping out of a bush and playing any dastardly tricks to win Sidney back, there will be no fires, or threats of bankruptcy, or young men selling themselves for money to save their families. 
> 
> I thought about different ways to make the events of Episode 8 work in a modern day AU, but they all involved so much razzle dazzle plot gymnastics that it just didn't feel true to this story. For me, the simple story of how love and trust develops, is expressed, and then consolidated is exciting enough to stand on its own.
> 
> So I have decided to stick with writing two or three final chapters exploring how C &S learn to build trust and turn their love into something permanent. 
> 
> I hope it won't be a disappointment; there are a lot of conversations between them that I want to write.
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking with the story this far! 
> 
> OH, and a warning that there are some parts here that you might not want to read at work...

When Charlotte and Sidney turned up together for Sunday lunch at Trafalgar House giggling and whispering, and unable to keep their hands off each other, Marion looked triumphant; Arthur took every opportunity to poke fun of them; and Tom spent the first thirty minutes being confused.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered to Marion when they were alone in the kitchen carving the roast. “Are they together now? When did that even happen?”

“Oh Tom!” Marion laughed affectionately. “You are so bloody clueless! Sidney has been devouring Charlotte with his eyes almost since she arrived in Sanditon. I would have thought it was clear to anyone that there was something between them – all that arguing!” 

She shook her head. 

“I was a little worried when Eliza turned up yesterday out of the blue, but I gather he didn’t actually ask her to come, and that vampire knew just how to manipulate you into giving her a welcome she didn’t deserve.” 

Tom looked surprised. 

“I’m sorry! I thought Sidney wanted her here!”

Marion put down the dish she was holding and looked directly at her husband.

“For god’s sake, Tom! Seriously? Even if he was that stupid, after everything she put him through you shouldn’t have encouraged it! In any case, it was very clear he was trying to get away from her, and you saw only what you wanted to see. You were so wrapped up in what you thought she could do for Sanditon that you basically pushed him at her and almost derailed what was happening with Charlotte in the meantime! Did Eliza ever mention anything concrete about that “generous” donation yesterday?”

Tom looked self-conscious and guilty. He shook his head.

“No. I didn’t think so. So, don’t hold your breath.” She handed him a dish of potatoes and stuck a serving spoon in it.

“Now let’s go be happy for your brother. I don’t think I have ever seen him like this – he deserves it, finally. I hope to God things work out for them.” 

“You’re absolutely right, Mar. I was selfish. I didn’t think.” Tom smiled admiringly at his wife and thought for the millionth time about how beautiful, intelligent, and caring she was, how much he loved her, and how lucky he was that she chose him. He had first clapped eyes on her twenty years ago at Glastonbury during the David Bowie concert on the Pyramid stage, and after getting her number spent months wooing her away from her boyfriend. Those first few wild years together suddenly seemed like yesterday and he leaned forward to kiss her passionately. She smiled back up at him, her eyes glowing. Then they turned and headed back into the dining room.

***

Saying good-bye to Sidney a few hours later was painful. After lunch, he picked up his bag from the annex and went back to Charlotte’s flat, where their lovemaking against the wall in the living room was frantic and emotional. He refused to let her come to the station with him, and they instead said goodbye in her doorway, clinging to each other as if they were about to be separated by time zones rather than a ninety-minute train ride. Charlotte put her arms around his neck, and he lifted her off the ground. After a few more minutes of urgent kissing, Sidney put her down reluctantly and picked up his bag, turning back to kiss her one last time with a groan before running down the steps. 

Though they had talked about her coming down to London with him, Charlotte ruled it out. She knew he had a busy week at work and she had to start planning out her lectures for the autumn term. If she came to the city, neither of them would get anything done. Instead she would come down on Friday and stay for a long weekend before he went away to New York for ten days. That separation, she knew, would be even harder. It seemed unfair that they would now be forced apart after having just found each other.

In a half an hour, her phone pinged

Sidney: On train now. I will ring you later tonight. I miss you already. X

Charlotte: I miss you more! X

Sidney: Sorry, not possible…don’t even try. XX

Thirty minutes after that, she received another message. This time from Georgiana.

Georgie: OMFG!! R U and Sidney a thing now??!!! Arthur just messaged me!!

Charlotte laughed and replied with a winking and a kiss emoji.

Georgie: I am so happy for you two! Can’t wait to hear all the details!!! 

P.S. Otis is amazing. Lagos is amazing. I am so happy. XXXXXXXXX

***

Charlotte spent her entire week planning and writing the majority of her courses and lectures for the autumn term. It was one of the only things she could do to keep her mind off Sidney, everything else, even the documents in the Bedford Place folder, made her think of how much she longed for him. 

Though they had certainly made the most of it, the fact remained that they hadn’t even had 24 hours together yet. They facetimed every night before bed, sometimes talking for hours, but she missed him so much that it was beginning to physically hurt. By Wednesday she was so desperate that she considered taking the train to London and surprising him at work so he could have his way with her on his desk. She smiled at the idea, but she knew he was missing her just as much as she was him, and that she shouldn’t tempt him too far; instead she talked herself down and resolved to wait until Friday as planned. They would at least have a few days together before he went away to NYC on Tuesday morning. 

Though Charlotte couldn’t even face the thought of that longer separation. Her plan was to use that time to search for a place to live in London and also to visit her family in Willingden, Alison would be back home and she couldn't wait to see her sister and catch her up on everything. Charlotte tried to remind herself that once he was back, she and Sidney would have a week of holiday together, but she couldn’t let herself think much further than that.

With Otis in Lagos and Babington off for a few days for personal reasons that seemed to have to do with Esther, Sidney’s week turned out to be one of the busiest he’d had all summer. They were starting to prepare for the art fairs that were coming up in September and October, and he had quite a few important meetings. He was grateful for the distraction of work, because without it there was no way he would have been able to resist just turning around and going back to Sanditon to snatch Charlotte up and shag her senseless day and night. As she predicted, he thought of her virtually every waking moment and quite a few of his sleeping ones too; at times the marks she’d left on his body seemed to pulse with palpable longing. 

The change in Sidney’s mood and demeanor did not go unnoticed in the gallery. There were some quizzical looks and comments among the directors and staff. He was as sharp as ever, never missing anything, but at the same time there was something softer about him. He smiled more, was a bit less frightening, and a lot more friendly than usual. Susanna and Joseph were in absolute fits when they caught him one morning staring with a dreamy smile out one of the windows in the gallery drinking his mid-morning espresso. Usually the only time he left his office during a regular day was if he needed to speak to someone or check something. And everything was usually done very quickly and brusquely, he was never unfair or unkind or raised his voice, but at the gallery he never wasted time in chatting, joking, or staring out of windows; Susanna usually made his coffee or ordered his lunch so he could work uninterrupted. Although everyone respected and liked him, he was definitely the least approachable of the partners – only Susan was considered more terrifying, but for entirely different reasons. 

Susan came into the gallery on Thursday morning and clocked the change in Sidney immediately. 

“So, you and Charlotte have come to an understanding then?” She said as she entered his office.

He looked up from his computer, startled at the mention of her name,

“Uh, what? Good morning to you too Susan!” He laughed. He had no idea how Susan knew about Charlotte, but he also wasn’t really surprised that she did. She always seemed to know everything.

“Yes. We’re together.” 

A huge boyish grin spread across his face as he said it, and Susan nodded approvingly.

“Good.” 

She dropped a folder onto his desk and walked out again, saying over her shoulder as she left,

“Don’t fuck it up, Sidney!”

Sidney had no intention of fucking it up, but having never really experienced feelings like this, his imagination was working at warp-speed. He had already built a blissful domestic future for them in his head, though he certainly wasn’t going to tell Charlotte that – not yet anyhow! In fact, he was working very hard not to get too carried away and to continue to take it day by day, but it was difficult. 

***

Friday did eventually come. Charlotte was excited, but also strangely nervous to see him again, what if things were strange or he’d had a change of heart?  
She tried to shake these disturbing thoughts off and focused on packing her bag. So far, he didn’t seem to care at all about what underwear she was wearing, but she wore her nicest things anyhow, a delicate white lace set. Instead of her usual jeans she wore a silk top tucked into a brightly patterned skirt and simple flat leather sandals. She wanted to make a bit of an effort for him.

Sidney paced the hall at Victoria Station waiting for her train, and when he finally caught sight of her coming through the turn-stile and waving shyly at him, he felt his heart lurch. He came up and leaned in to kiss her; she slipped her arms around him and looked up at him longingly. 

“Let’s get out of here. I want to get you home.” he said with a grin. He took her bag and they ran together to the taxi stand. Rush hour traffic in central London meant that the ride up to his house in Hackney took forever. Sidney’s hand was on her knee and creeping slowly under her skirt to stroke her inner thigh. Charlotte’s hand too was drawing slow circles on his thigh.

They didn’t dare to go any further in the taxi, but as they moved at a snail’s pace through the city, Sidney jostled his knee nervously, looking out the window to distract himself, smiling all the time. She laughed quietly at him and tried to help by talking about her work, how useful the documents had been, and how she now thought she had almost everything she needed to establish that James Stringer had designed Trafalgar House in her second book. 

But once the taxi pulled up outside of his house and they were safely inside, Sidney reached out and pulled her to him for a hungry kiss, running his hands up and down her body. 

“This week has been agony. I missed you so much!” 

“Me too! You don’t know how close I was to catching a train to London earlier in the week.”

They staggered backwards into his apartment laughing and kissing. Sidney lifted her up onto the table. He slipped off her sandals and stood between her knees running his hands up her legs and inside her skirt until he reached her pants. She shivered as he touched the tiny scrap of delicate lace and ran his fingers gently under the thin band inside her leg. He looked up at her with wondering eyes.

“What are you wearing?”

She had already unbuttoned his shirt under his jacket and was running her hands through the hair on his chest. Snaking her arms around his waist to pull him closer and kissing his neck, she whispered seductively,

“Why don’t you take it off…”

The desire he had tried to contain all week, combined with the sexy sound of her voice so close to his ear sparked something feral in Sidney: he pushed his fingers roughly through the delicate lace and ripped them off her. She gasped, both slightly shocked and quite aroused by what he had done. They both looked at the scrap of fabric that was left in his hand and burst out laughing.

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?” he said sheepishly. “But Jesus, Charlotte what are you trying to do to me? I can barely control myself around you already!”

He kissed her again fiercely, frantically pulling her shirt over her head. He looked at her for a moment and much more gently pulled the straps of her bra down her shoulders, burying his face in her breasts and running his tongue over her nipples underneath the thin lace as she moaned and grasped his hair. He reached around to unclasp it and dropped it onto the floor. His hand slipped to the small of her back, holding her in place as he leaned down to devour her breasts and she arched her back towards him. Charlotte’s moans were making him crazy; his fingers moved up her skirt. Pushing him back slightly, she undid his trousers and tugged them down along with his shorts. She took him in her hand moving her fingers gently along his length as he closed his eyes and groaned softly.

“Do you have a condom with you?” She breathed.

“Inside pocket of my jacket” he murmured into her neck. 

She took it out and put it on him, throwing his jacket onto the floor and leaving him in nothing but his open shirt. He pushed her skirt up around her waist and put his hands on her bare bum, pulling her roughly towards him and pushing into her. Looking into each other’s eyes they paused for a moment to savour the sensation of being together again, but neither could hold back for long. Charlotte wrapped her legs around him, and they moved against each other ferociously until they cried out together in release. They stayed this way for some time afterwards, clinging to each other and kissing deeply. 

***

Sidney’s house was a surprise to Charlotte. She had expected something closer to a sleek modern bachelor pad, tasteful of course, and expensive, but spare. 

But Sidney’s place was unexpected: First, it was a fairly modest looking Victorian end terrace near to Broadway Market; second, his taste was more cosy and bohemian then she had imagined; and third, it was relatively small for a man who was so wealthy. That’s not to say it wasn’t spectacular: he owned the whole house, but the two upper floors were rented as flats. Sidney lived in the main floor one-bedroom garden flat, which had been renovated beautifully. The kitchen was in the front room overlooking the street; the middle room, into which the door from the hallway opened, was a dining room with bookshelves on either side of the mantlepiece, and there was a small contemporary extension at the back that was cantilevered over the garden. This was used as a sitting room. It had a glass door and steps leading down to the garden. Sidney’s bedroom and bathroom were in the converted cellar, which was a cosy, warm masculine space. There was a large floor to ceiling glass door that opened out into the garden at one end and at the other end a wall lined with books. In the middle there was a door leading to a rather large bathroom and cupboards. Other than the bookshelves the only other furniture was a leather safari chair that had a stack of art books next to it, a floor lamp, and a bed with white linen sheets. 

As was to be expected for an art dealer he also had a stellar but wonderfully understated art collection. Some pieces she recognised, a small Ben Nicholson, a piece by Helen Frankenthaler, and a painting in the dining room by Wifredo Lam for instance, but there were many she didn’t. What was clear was that everything in his house was meaningful to him. His furniture was also eclectic and comfortable. A mix of mid-century modern and some old “brown furniture” from the overflowing attics at Trafalgar House. 

Sidney cooked and watched out of the corner of his eye as Charlotte wandered around his house, taking everything in, pulling books off the shelf to leaf through, and looking at the old family photos that were scattered around, some in frames and some just tucked into the corner of a picture frame or pinned onto the bookshelf: there was a black and white one of his mum cuddling him as a baby; and another of him a bit older, hugging his dad; one of the whole family on holiday; of him and Diana with gap tooth grins, their arms around each other and toddler Arthur hanging on to Sidney’s leg; one of him and Tom in swimming trunks running into the sea together holding hands; a recent one of Jenny, Alicia and Henry playing in a field of grass; and a snapshot of Georgie as a skinny kid with her smiling parents. There was also a black and white one of Sidney, Babington and Crowe, in their bedraggled school uniforms, trying to look cool with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths whilst leaning against a white VW polo. She was fascinated by these glimpses into his past life: the chubby baby, skinny gap-toothed kid, and tall and awkward teenager who was just starting to discover that he was attractive. Sidney came over and handed her a glass of wine. 

“We eat in ten minutes.”

“Pasta alla gricia again?” she asked

“Nope, I wasn’t so successful getting you into my bed the last time I made that for you, so I am trying something new this time.”

He sat down and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Were you trying to get me in your bed that day? I wasn’t sure.”

“Yes and no. I mean I thought about it, obviously... all day. I cleared my schedule to spend the day with you.” 

She smiled, quite pleased.

“Did you really?”

He nodded.

“But mostly I was just trying to get to know you better without screwing it up.”

She kissed him.

“Well I don’t think you’ll have any trouble getting me into your bed tonight.”

***

Later, after having proven the truth of that statement, Sidney and Charlotte lay together naked and warm in each other’s arms talking and laughing.

“Did you not like my underwear earlier today?” 

Sidney smiled. 

“I liked ripping it off you! What does that say about me? And I like what’s under it. So of course I like it! If it makes you feel good and you enjoy wearing it then I am more than happy to take it off, but honestly, I find everything you wear unbearably sexy.” 

He leaned over to kiss her neck. 

“I’ve seen a lot of expensive, sexy lingerie. It doesn’t mean anything. All that matters is who’s wearing it.”

Charlotte smiled and was pensive.

“… other men seem to be really into it.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head vehemently.

“No no no no!! I don’t want to hear about other men – please! Now I am happy that I destroyed it! I don’t want to think of you wearing that for any other man. Burn of all your underwear and buy new ones just for my eyes.” He said, semi-joking and focusing again on her neck and shoulder.

“What?! Don’t be daft! You know I am not a blushing virgin, Sidney, AND that’s such a double standard considering you just mentioned how much lingerie you’ve seen … fucking hypocrite!” 

She punched him playfully.

He laughed and tried to change the conversation by kissing behind her ear.

“And now that we’re on the topic,” she continued. He groaned into her neck, knowing where this was going. 

“Just how many women have you seen in their knickers?”

“Do you really want to have this conversation?”

“Yup. You tell me and I’ll tell you.”

“I honestly don’t know… I haven’t counted. It feels a bit ungentlemanly to keep a list or something. I am sure there are people who’ve been with many more!”

“That was a very clever and evasive reply.”

He paused. He really didn’t want to admit just how much casual and meaningless sex he’d had, particularly when he was younger and making stupid decisions, but he also knew that Charlotte deserved a straightforward answer.

“A lot, Charlotte.” She waited. 

He sighed,

“Um … probably around 60, maybe more?”

She raised her eyebrows, but tried not to judge him.

“Impressive! Right, well I’ve slept with 10 – other than you.”

He was a bit disturbed by the jolt of burning jealousy that raced through him and tried to shake it off.

“And I hate every single one of them. Can we please talk about something else now?” 

He tried to return to kissing her neck, but Charlotte put her hand on his chest and pushed him gently away. 

“Not yet. Here’s the thing, Sidney.” She turned to face him before saying in her most serious teacherly voice. “I am actually already on the pill, and I’d like to dispense with the whole inconvenience of condoms, but I guess before we do that I need to know if…”

He laughed. 

“If I am ‘clean’?”

She grinned and shrugged,

“I know it’s not very sexy to ask, but…”

“No, no of course you should ask! You can make anything sexy, even this public health announcement. The answer to your question is, yes. Checked before Christmas and all clear, only two others after that, and always protected. But I can get checked again if you want.”

“No, that’s good. Me too.”

“So does that mean we can now…?” 

He asked eagerly, pulling her closer.


	33. Willingden

Sidney’s flight to New York left early on Tuesday morning, and he was already showered and dressed at dawn. Though he would have slipped away without waking her, Charlotte had warned him last night not to do that. He sat for a moment on the edge of the bed looking down at her sleeping peacefully, the embodiment of everything he wanted in his future. Her hair was a tangled dark mess on the pillow, her beautiful lips were slightly parted and red from his kisses, and there was a small bruise on her neck from his lips last night. He grimaced when he saw it. She hadn’t complained, far from it in fact and he had the scratches on his back to prove it, but he still worried that in the intensity of his passion, he had gone too far – sometimes with her, he felt as if he was losing his mind. He touched the spot gently and tried to commit this picture of her to memory, along with all of the other memories from the last few perfect days they had spent together making love, talking, walking, cooking, eating, and making love some more. 

He loved her so much it was painful, and though he had told himself over and over that it was too soon to say it, Sidney knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it down for much longer. Just one week of being together had brought down an avalanche of feelings that he had buried: joy, fear, jealousy, overpowering desire, and sometimes even grief crashed over him in alternating waves; it was both exhilarating and terrifying. She seemed so serene and trusting, but Sidney felt as if he was being scattered to the wind and she was the only thing that could tether him to earth. The sheet slipped down to reveal one beautiful breast, and he leaned down to kiss it and wake her. 

“Charlotte” he whispered. “I have to go now. The taxi is on its way.”

She murmured indistinctly, and her eyelids fluttered open before she sat up and rubbed her eyes. The sheet slipped down exposing her, and Sidney reached out to stroke her breast reverently.

She wrapped her arms around his waist under his jacket, pressing herself up against him. They both heard his phone ping, indicating that the taxi was close by, and he pulled away to hold her face in his hands and kiss her. He was surprised and touched to see her tears.

“Oh Lotte, don’t cry. I can’t stand it!”

“I can’t help it.”

He held her until the driver rang his phone and then, he wasn’t sure exactly how, he managed to tear himself away.

***

Charlotte spent the next few days wandering around London as if in a dream. She walked by her old run-down student house up near London Fields, which was now a single-family home and had an expensive looking bike shed outside. She also met friends for drinks, checked some documents at the British Library, and searched for a place to live in September. There were a few options in Hackney Downs, but even there it was going to take almost half her monthly salary to live someplace half-way decent on her own; she realised that she might have to consider a flat share or stay in Sanditon for a while and commute. 

The two nights she spent alone in Sidney’s apartment were difficult; she had taken to wearing the t-shirt he had left under his pillow and surprised herself by crying a little bit too. Sidney texted her periodically throughout the day. He messaged her before he went to bed and rang her in the morning when he woke up, but the time-difference and his busy schedule of meetings during the day and dinners and events in the evening made it difficult to talk properly. Charlotte tried hard not to feel insecure, but she couldn't help but think of all the women he would be interacting with, some of them he’d possibly already slept with – maybe he would feel regret or be tempted? The thought made her physically ill. She had been in love before, certainly the relationship with her high-school boyfriend had been all that the sweet, tremulous experience of first love should be; later in second-year university she had been rather wild about an older graduate student who had messed her around a bit. There had also been quite a few other flings and relationships at varying levels of seriousness, but she knew that what was happening with Sidney was different: he felt as essential to her as breathing. 

Though some part of her also knew that two days spent in his apartment alone was making her a bit melodramatic, she couldn’t help thinking that the element of chance in the way they had met and how they had seemed to claim each other without even realizing it was driven by destiny. 

On Thursday, Charlotte took a train to Willingden. She was started to feel morose on her own in London and was looking forward to being home for a week and seeing her family, especially Alison who had just returned from a year of studying architecture in Zurich and who always knew how to have a good time and make her laugh. Sidney was going to come down to Willingden next Friday when he got back from New York, and from there they would either return to Sanditon or go someplace alone together. It didn’t matter to her at all where they went, she just needed him to come back as soon as possible – she needed him, full stop. 

She got off the train at the station near her village and was tackled almost immediately by Alison. There was a lot of loud laughing and hugging, and they fell into step beside each other chatting away and immediately picking up the thread of a conversation that had been going on between them since they were small.

Charlotte threw her arm over Alison’s shoulder as they walked.

“I love your hair, Allie.” Charlotte said ruffling Alison’s severe black bob and fringe with her hand. “Very Weimar.”

“I was in Zurich not Berlin, you knob!”

“Ok very Dada then?”

“Better.”

They got into their dad’s 1985 Volvo station wagon. Charlotte smiled and leaned back into the passenger seat as Allie started the car, comforted by the familiar smell of wet dog and earth. 

“Every time I come home, I am surprised that this tank is still running. God I love it though.”

“I know! Dad works on it all the time. I swear it’s held together with gaffer tape and string. When it dies, I think he’ll bury it out in the garden with the dogs; mum will have to give a eulogy; the vicar will come down to the farm for a service.” 

They both laughed and Allie gave her sister the side eye,

“Soooo tell me all about Sidney Parker! I googled him. Shit, he’s gorgeous Lotte! I hope you’re letting him hit it regularly!”

Charlotte threw her head back and roared. It was so good to be with her little sister again. Allie never held back.

“Oh yes. He’s definitely hitting it!” 

They both laughed again, and then Charlotte said suddenly, 

“Allz, do you think 60 is too many people to have slept with?”

“What have you been doing since I went away!? You dirty little tramp!”

Allie shouted jokingly.

“Not me, moron. Sidney!”

Allie raised her eyebrows at her sister. Though she was two years younger, in some ways she was more experienced, and certainly far more adventurous than her sister. She could see how Charlotte would start to overthink something like this.

“Um, I can see how you might start to fixate on it, but, honestly, I wouldn’t get hung up on it. It’s a lot, but I don’t think it’s a completely insane number for a grown single man, Lotte. In any case, I think everyone gets too hung up on how many or how few people they’ve shagged. It’s all relative and everyone is different – it’s far too easy to judge either way.”

Charlotte looked pensive, and Allie continued.

“At least he should know what he’s doing!”

They chuckled again.

“Oh, he does!” said Charlotte with a smile.

***

Charlotte felt better being at home. Her older brother Edward lived in Bristol now, but Luke, Francis, Maria and Frederick were still at home. Luke was heading to uni in Manchester in a few weeks, but Francis and Maria were still in secondary school and Freddy was at the local primary. The house was unchanged and unchanging. Rambling, chaotic, always seemingly full of the noise and bustle of children, dogs, and people and then suddenly falling silent as though listening for the ghosts of the past. 

Sitting in her mother’s huge chaotic country kitchen chatting about the events of the past few months, with Maggy, their Labrador retriever, under her feet and her nine-year old brother Freddy sitting on her lap, Charlotte felt really peaceful and secure again. She told them all about Sanditon and how her work was going, she talked about the Parkers and Georgiana, and then after a few minutes of chat, she also told them about Sidney, mentioning as casually as possible that he was going to pick her up next Friday. They took the news in their stride, though her father did wonder aloud whether it was too soon after John. Her mum, however, rolled her eyes and talked over him,

“We’ll be happy to meet him, my love.”

Charlotte smiled but looked at her dad nervously. He was frowning slightly and was silent. She wondered what he would make of Sidney. He hated London and what he called “London people,” and Sidney might easily fall into that category for her dad. How would he fit in here with her family? And if he didn’t fit in, would it change things between them?

The longer her father was silent, the more she began to worry. She and her mum and Allie had long since moved onto other subjects and were chatting over each other animatedly, but he still sat frowning and thinking. Then he suddenly looked up, interrupting Allie mid-flow and said,

“Sidney Parker! The name was familiar and I couldn’t think why, but I remember now. I’ve been going through some of the parish registers from Willingden church for that family history I told you I am writing. And I think I’ve seen that name there.”

Charlotte sat up, rather excited.

“Really dad?” 

“Yes. I have a CD ROM of the registers. You can look at it if you like love.”

Allie guffawed. 

“A CD-ROM!? You are such a dinosaur Dad! Charlotte can’t use that on her computer!”

“Don’t be a smart arse, Allie.” He said, rather affectionately. “My computer has a CD player on it. Unlike you profligates, I fix my old electronics. I don’t throw them out to sit on a land fill and buy something new. I’ve had my personal computer since 2000 and it still works fine.”

***

That evening after dinner, Charlotte’s dad set her up on his computer with the CD and she scrolled through the photos of the parish registers that were on it. If the Sidney Parker her father had seen was the same one she had read about in the Parker archives the mention would be somewhere between 1818–1825. She searched quickly through the entries from those years. 

As was to be expected for the church registers connected to the old Heywood estate, there were many Heywoods; often the same 10 or 15 names repeated over and over in an endless cycle of baptisms, marriages and deaths. And then she found it: both the record of the banns and the marriage itself. His name stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all the Heywood Edwards, Francis, Lukes, Elinors, Mariannes, Marias, Charlottes and Alisons. 

Marriages – Anno Dom. 1820

Sidney Augustus Blakewood Parker esq. of Sanditon and Charlotte Elinor Heywood of this Parish October 11

At best this little archival mystery might form a footnote in her own work, but somehow if felt incredibly significant and monumental personally. She already knew that Parker family lore had somewhere along the line mistakenly assumed that the original Sidney Parker had married a wealthy widow whose money saved Sanditon from ruin, but now she had proof absolute that this had not happened. The story was completely different in fact! Sidney’s namesake ancestor had married one of her own namesake ancestors! It was a weird and sort of wonderful coincidence. Charlotte took a screen shot of the entry and emailed it to herself along with the register number information. 

Though it was late, Charlotte wanted to see if she could find out more. She went searching in the boxes of family documents that were stored in the attics of the house. As a fifteen-year-old nerdy history buff, she had spent part of her term holiday organising the documents in these boxes chronologically. While he was writing his family history, her father had cause to thank her for having taken the trouble to do that so long ago, but now for the first time Charlotte was able to reap the rewards of her own youthful diligence. She had been bothering her father for years to donate these precious documents to the National Archives, or to the Chichester archives at the very least, where they would be kept safe for future researchers but tonight she was glad they were still here.

She quickly found and pulled out the boxes containing letters and documents dated between 1815– 1825 and 1826–1836 and soon enough uncovered letters from Charlotte Parker to her brother Edward, his wife Jane, and to her sister Maria. In the early years they were all written from Whytcliffe, and they detailed all the domestic concerns of her married life and the birth of at least two daughters. But more interestingly and unusually, Charlotte Parker also seemed to have a keen interest and understanding of her husband’s business concerns. She wrote about Sanditon in a style that was lively and sometimes sardonic, and in one letter from 1830 written to her brother, she mentioned that the group of investors who had come together to provide the £80,000 pounds to rebuild the terrace had finally been repaid. 

Charlotte was delighted by this extraordinary find. She may have even read this letter before when she was younger, but as she had had no personal interest in it, its significance had been obscured. She mused for a bit at how strange it was that a chance suggestion by her supervisor had led her to Sanditon and to the Parkers, and then to Sidney, and now back to her own family history. 

There was one last letter from this earlier Charlotte that had further personal significance for her. It was a short note written many years later from somewhere in Dorset, where it appears that Sidney and Charlotte Parker had bought a small estate in the 1830s. The note was written to the eldest daughter of her brother Edward – also named Charlotte – with whom she seemed to be particularly close. In the letter she promised to leave the girl a pair of gold earrings that had been given to her by her husband in the early years of their marriage.

Charlotte smiled to herself when she read this – these were the earrings she had inherited herself, the earrings that in family tradition had been passed down to all the Charlotte Heywoods in the family for almost two hundred years. The original Sidney Parker and his wife had been the beginning and the source of this special gift!

It was 1am by the time Charlotte found this, and there was only one person she wanted to tell.

Charlotte: You’ll never guess what I found this evening in Willingden! xxx

It would be about 8 in New York and she wasn’t sure if he was out to dinner or not and if he would be able to reply, but her phone almost immediately lit up and she could see he was ringing her. She snatched up her phone and answered.

“Hi!”

“Hello you.” His soft deep voice was like a caress. “You’re up late. I was just thinking about you.”

Charlotte explained what she had been doing all evening and what she had found, and even sent him the photo she’d taken.

“That’s unbelievable! Extraordinary! It will be quite significant for Tom in terms of re-writing the family history … but it’s also special for me… for reasons that I hope are obvious.”

Charlotte smiled, she felt her heart jump.

“Bit weird too though?”

“I think I’d describe it as more predestined or providential.” There was a pause and she wished he could see her smile, because words failed her a bit at that moment. 

“I miss you Charlotte.” His voice was serious and husky.

For a moment she though she might cry again and her voice quivered as she said,

“I miss you too. It’s been so hard without you.” 

“One more week…”

“I told my parents about us. They’re looking forward to meeting you. Is that OK?”

“Of course. You already know my entire family!” 

“True. How was your night? You sound tired.”

“It was fine. A pretty boring drinks reception at the Whitney. I did the rounds and then left early. I have meetings all day and then I have to socialise in the evening and it’s exhausting, and then I come back to my empty hotel room and think of you. It’s been… challenging. I realise too that I really hate this part of my job. Babington is much better at this stuff.”

“Hmm you think of me do you? What sort of things?”

He laughed softly and seductively.

“Where do I start…”


	34. An affliction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I am clearly a bit reluctant to let this story go, as I love these characters so much. I can't say exactly how many more chapters are left...two I think, but depending on where the writing leads me, it could be three. We shall see. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this, and many, many THANKS for all the comments and for the discussions happening here and on other platforms. I am quite happy to answer any questions you might have about the narrative choices I've made, but also just generally delighted that people are interested in my story, which really began as a way for me to work through some of the themes and dialogue in the TV series.

It had helped to finally talk to Charlotte properly, and not just through text messages. Their conversation had got Sidney through a few more days of meetings, drinks, and dinners, but by Tuesday evening he was really struggling again. This trip seemed to be lasting forever, and half the meetings didn’t really require his presence. He remembered vaguely that this trip had been planned in March, but he also felt a bit annoyed with Susanna for organizing the week this way. It wasn’t like her to spread meetings out over 10 days when they could be held in 5! It felt like a colossal waste of his time. Now that he had somewhere else he wanted to be and someone he wanted to be with, he couldn’t remember at all why he had agreed to this. 

And then it all came back to him.

He was at yet another event talking to a prominent curator about an upcoming exhibition. Their conversation had been the highlight of his otherwise dull evening, and she was asking about including a few of the gallery’s artists in an exhibition she was planning for 2022. While they were talking through a couple of ideas, Sidney looked up and saw Julia Bertram staring at him from across the room. She caught his eye and raised her wine glass at him, and he nodded back very slightly.

“Fuck!” thought Sidney, slightly panicked at the sight of her. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

He focused his attention back to the curator and managed to make a plan to talk further with her about the exhibition once he was back in London. And then, excusing himself, Sidney walked as quickly and as casually as he could towards the door. 

“Hi Sidney.”

He stopped and turned taking a deep breath.

“Hi Julia. I was just leaving.”

They greeted each other with a double kiss, but Sidney was mortified. He remembered only now that back in March, well before he had met Charlotte or even Elise, he had asked Susanna to extend this trip to New York by a couple of days because he had thought he might want to see Julia. He had sent her a few flirty messages at the time, letting her know his plans, which were entirely in keeping with their casual arrangement when he was in town. But in the past few months he had been so caught up with Charlotte that he had completely forgotten about it. 

Now here she was in front of him, the reminder of a lifestyle that seemed to have belonged to him a hundred years ago. Some part of him recognised that this humiliating moment was the comeuppance he deserved. Julia was intelligent, beautiful, and successful and like every woman he had been involved with he liked and respected her, but she was under no illusions about their arrangement. She was features editor at a high-profile fashion magazine and they had met last year when her magazine had written a feature piece on WBP. At this moment, however, all he wanted to do was to make clear – as he should have done much earlier – that nothing could ever happen between them again. 

“Shall we leave together? I thought we had plans…”

She said flirtatiously.

He ran his hands through his hair and shuffled awkwardly trying to keep his distance.

“Julia, I should have written to you earlier, but the truth is that I forgot that we were supposed to meet. It’s really unforgivable of me. I’m so sorry,” he paused. “I…I am seeing someone now, so…”

“That doesn’t matter to me. What we’re doing is casual, right?”

She reached out to rub his arm, but he moved deftly away from her.

“It matters to me. I am really sorry that I didn’t let you know earlier, Julia. Have a good night.”

He turned and left. It wasn’t the most graceful exit, and he felt bad about it, but at least he had been clear and had got away quickly. In the taxi on the way back to his hotel, Sidney picked up his phone and began writing an email to Susanna.

***

By the time Thursday came around Charlotte was on pins and needles. She felt positively giddy at the thought of seeing Sidney the next day. His flight was landing at 6:30 on Friday morning and after roughly calculating how long it would take for him to get home to drop his stuff and then drive directly to Willingden, she reckoned she would be in his arms at latest by noon tomorrow and that they could leave to be alone together after lunch. 

Charlotte and Allie were sitting in their favourite spot on a small hill overlooking the road between the edge of the meadow and the house. They chatted quietly about some of the local people they had seen down the village pub last night. Allie rolled a cigarette and Charlotte lay back in the grass and looked up at the blue sky.

“Looking forward to tomorrow then, Lotte?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Allie chuckled

“Yes, it is. I am happy for you though. You know that, right?”

“I love him, Allie.”

“I can see that. Does he know?”

“He must. I don’t think I’ve been very subtle. But it would be crazy to talk about love so soon, wouldn’t it?”

“Everybody acts like there are rules for these things, but there aren’t. Sometimes you just love someone and there’s nothing you can do about it – it’s an affliction, like the measles. Your problem is that you overthink everything, Lotte. You can’t control things just by thinking about them.”

As if she hadn't heard a word her sister just said, Charlotte cried,

“But he hasn’t been in a proper relationship for fifteen years, Allz! And I am not sure I would call that relationship healthy! I mean, what am I doing? I am going to get totally decimated here, and he’s just going to carry on afterwards with the next exquisite ice maiden.”

“I guess that could happen, or you might find out that he loves you too and you will do what people in love do: they talk, they learn how to trust each other, they are honest with one another, they are kind to each other, and they move forward. No way of knowing unless you take a chance.”

“Sorry, who are you again? Was that architecture or psychotherapy you studied in Zurich?”

“Yes, well it’s been established that I give brilliant and prescient advice, none of which you took when you were with John.”

Charlotte grunted and rolled onto her stomach

“I told you to break up with him and not let it drag on like that.”

“Ok, ok! Let’s not get into that again, otherwise I’ll have to bring up what happened with you and Murray.”

Allie threw a handful of grass at her sister and then looked up.

“That’s a pretty sweet car coming up the lane.”

Charlotte turned around lazily to look over her shoulder just in time to see Sidney’s car come through the gates and pull up the gravel sweep in front of the house. Her stomach did a sommersault; she scrambled ungracefully to her feet and bolted in his direction without a moment’s pause or a word back to her surprised sister.

Sidney got out of his car and looked up at the crumbling old house, then he turned and saw Charlotte running towards him over the lawn. He grinned at her as she approached and felt his heart pounding in his chest. And when she jumped into his arms and he lifted her up off the ground, crushing her to him and exhaling, he felt many days worth of tension fall away. It felt so good to have his arms around her again. Sidney buried his face in her hair and inhaled her scent before putting her down, then he looked deep into her eyes, brushed the wild messy hair off her face, and kissed her eagerly.

Charlotte broke away first; she had too many questions

“I didn’t expect you ‘til tomorrow! What happened!?”

“I rearranged some things and caught the red-eye last night. I did think of texting you, but it wasn’t certain that I would make it. Susanna only managed to get me a seat at last minute, and then I thought I’d surprise you. I just couldn’t stand being away a day longer than necessary.”

Charlotte looked up at him positively glowing with happiness. He kissed her forehead and ran his finger under the strap of her overalls affectionately

“I like the farm girl look!” 

She blushed.

“Allie and I have been helping with the hay today… well more like getting in the way actually.”

They kissed again, and he whispered,

“Maybe we could visit the hayloft for an hour or so?”

“With my little brothers and sisters around that might be awkward! I think you’ll find there’s not much privacy in this house. That’s why we have to get out of here as soon as possible!”

“Sorry, was it really presumptuous of me to come here early? I didn’t really think. I just got in the car and drove … and then when I arrived, I suddenly thought that I was coming without an invitation and…”

He sounded a bit nervous and it made Charlotte smile.

“Don’t be silly. Come meet my family. They know all about you.”

He put his arm around her shoulder, and they walked together towards the house.

She looked down at his jeans, t-shirt, and stan smiths.

“Glad you’re not wearing a suit. It might have turned dad against you immediately.”

Sidney stopped short.

“What! Why didn’t you say that before? I almost came directly from the airport in a suit! Thank god I went home first to get fresh clothes. Shit, now I am nervous!”

He ran his hands through his hair and Charlotte laughed.

***

The Heywoods absorbed Sidney into their midst effortlessly. Charlotte’s mother, Claudia, hugged him when she was introduced, and then without missing a beat sent him out to her veg patch to get her some carrots. Sidney looked at Charlotte, a bit confused, but she just shrugged at him and smiled, pointing him in the direction of the kitchen garden. Claudia had already moved on to something else, but she did take a moment to squeeze Charlotte’s arm as she went by her and say,

“He’s quite a looker, Lotte.”

Sidney covered quite a lot of ground in his one day with the Heywood family. Charlotte secretly thought they were a bit relentless in monopolizing his attention, but she had forgotten about the chaos of her family life and was also more than a little desperate to snatch a few minutes alone with him somewhere. He had been dragged outside on the drive for a smoke and an intense chat with Alison about Swiss architecture; had received a tutorial in TikTok from Maria; had let Freddy push all the buttons and play with the steering wheel in his car; and had been taken all over the property and given a complete history of the place by Mr Heywood, or Ed, as he insisted on being called. At this moment he was lying on his back sweating and panting, regretting having ever agreed to play football with Francis, Luke, Maria and Freddy on the lawn. 

Taking pity on him, Charlotte called a time out with her siblings. She came over and nudged his ribs with her toe.

“Come on. Up you get, old man!”

“I…think….you’ll… have to come down to me.” He said gasping for breath.

He grabbed her leg and pulled her down to the ground, and they sat there for a while contentedly, with his head in her lap. As he recovered and she gently stroked his hair, Sidney looked up at her. She was watching her siblings play, laughing and shouting at them from the sidelines, and his heart was full to bursting. How was it possible he could love her even more? The words were on his lips, but he held back. Instead he grabbed her hand and kissed it and she looked back down at him with soft eyes full of meaning. 

***

Dinner was another chaotic affair, everyone seemed to be talking at the same time, and Charlotte looked over at Sidney a few times to see how he was coping. She was relieved to see him laughing and joining in, however. Watching him banter good-naturedly with Luke, she was struck once again by how in love with him she was. It would soon be impossible for her to avoid telling him. 

Her mother’s calm voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh Charlotte, Sidney, darlings. I meant to mention: I am afraid we won’t be able to find a bed big enough for both of you tonight. I am sure you’re desperate to be alone, but we only have that little camp bed set up in the old blue room for Sidney. The plaster ceiling in the west wing is coming down in pieces and we have scaffolding up in there now, and it even looks like there might be bats nesting as well. I hope you don’t mind waiting another night.”

Allie almost spit her wine across the table and her brothers snickered. Charlotte blushed all the way up to her hairline, mortified and afraid to look at Sidney

“Mum! What the f…?” 

“What!? Your father and I were at it like rabbits when we first got together! How do you think we had seven children? I am just apologising to Sidney – he’s been away for a while!”

At this all the kids started laughing and groaning and covering their ears. Francis pushed his chair back from the table and covered his face with his napkin, roaring in horror. Only Freddy seemed undisturbed.

Charlotte’s father was just as serene as her mother throughout this conversation. Her parents had always been quite permissive and open about sex and sexuality with their children and Charlotte wasn’t surprised by their attitude, but she was a bit worried about what Sidney would think. His upbringing had been loving, but rather more formal than her own. When she was finally brave enough to look up at him, she was happy to see that he was more amused than anything else. He winked at her and said with a charming smile,

“Thanks Claudia. I appreciate your having thought of everything. The camp bed will be fine.”

***  
Later that night Charlotte slipped out of the room she shared with Alison and padded down the hall to the blue room. In the end, she and Sidney found that the camp bed accommodated two perfectly.


	35. Overwhelmed

“Was it too overwhelming? "

Charlotte asked as they drove away from Willingden the next morning. 

“I thought Luke was giving you a bit of hard time at football yesterday. I mothered him a lot when he was small, and now that he’s a man, he feels he has to be protective. You won him over though.”

“Ha, there was no way I was going to be able to keep up with a fit eighteen-year old! I thought I’d have to worry about your sister or your dad, but it’s actually your brothers.”

Charlotte laughed,

“You haven’t met Edward yet! That will be interesting. He almost got in a fight one Christmas with Allie’s ex, Murray; mum had to talk him down. And he hated John – said he was a ‘patronising twat,’ which to be fair, wasn’t so wide of the mark.”

“I like the sound of him! We’ll get on great.” Sidney chuckled. “No, it wasn’t overwhelming. I really like your family. It made me miss my parents – they were a lot less casual, but we loved being with them when we were home from school. They always planned an adventure for us. They made things fun.”

“My parents don’t really do rules, or schedules, or planning, they just left us to get on with things and I think that made us a lot closer. Edward, Allie and I were all really close and a bit feral as teenagers, especially Allie. But Luke and Francis…well… they’ve taken it to another level recently. They’re incredible students, though, and they tell mum everything. They know she won’t judge. Maria’s a lot more introverted and low-key…and who knows yet about lovely Freddy.”

“Your dad seems pretty relaxed about everything, and your mum is wonderful.”

“She’s mortifying, Sidney! What you witnessed was just the tip of the iceberg. When she found out Edward was having sex with his girlfriend at 16, she bought him a box of condoms, some women’s erotic literature, and a book on female pleasure so he would know what women like! He said it was the most awkward conversation of his life – though he did admit later that it was quite helpful. She also told the boys that if she ever found out they were watching porn, she would sit down and watch it with them so they could deconstruct all the harmful stereotypes and tropes together!”

Sidney laughed until tears were running down his face, and Charlotte thought about how much she loved seeing Sidney like this. He always seemed to be under so much pressure, and she liked to think that when he was with her, he could be relaxed and happy.

“That sounds like a great idea for all over-sexed teenage boys! I wish my mum had done that. I felt like I was just fumbling around in the dark for ages.”

“Well, you’ve improved since then.” She said slyly.

He squeezed her thigh where his hand had been resting for the whole car ride, moving it only to change gears. She leaned over to kiss his neck and suck on his earlobe, but he moved his head away from her.

“I cannot drive this car while you do that Charlotte!!”

She sat back and huffed, and he laughed again.

“Don’t sulk! I am happy to stop somewhere and take this further if you want, but there’s some place I want to take you this afternoon and we’re almost there. I thought if you like it, maybe we can stay this week.” 

“Do I need anything special? I only have jeans and casual clothes with me.”

“That’s perfect. Here’s the turn off.”

They were in the hills above Sanditon and Charlotte realised that they were turning down the lane to Whytcliffe. She expected that he was going to stop at the proposed WBP gallery site, which had already been fenced off and was awaiting planning permission, but he kept driving until they reached a rusty gate, which he unlocked. They drove a bit further along the graveled track and pulled up to a tumbledown farm on a sunny, south-facing hill, skirted by a wooded valley that sloped gently down to the river. Sidney parked the car and they got out. He watched Charlotte a bit nervously as she looked around.

There was a ruin of what would have once been a modest tenant farmhouse, probably mid- to late eighteenth century; but the early nineteenth-century stone barn, the tiny granary, and the oast house were still intact and charming. 

“It was originally a tenant farm on the Whytcliffe estate. I bought it from the Trust about seven years ago when there were developers sniffing around. It's no Willingden but…”

“I love it Sidney!” She said excitedly. “And even Willingden is not Willingden anymore! Didn’t you see all the buckets everywhere to catch the water that comes through the roof when it rains? And the falling plaster ceilings! It’s got so much worse since I was last home. I don’t know what my parents are going to do… So, what are you planning to do with this place?”

He shrugged. 

“I wanted to renovate the barn into a house at one point and then... I am not sure really.”

He didn’t want to tell her that during one particularly optimistic period in his life, he had imagined having a family and living here at least part of the time. He had given up on that idea – until now – though he still came up by himself now and then as a retreat from London and various family pressures.

She smiled at him, chattering animatedly and pointing out obscure building details.

“Is it listed? That oast house probably should be – it’s in excellent shape and it looks to be quite old, maybe even late eighteenth-century, which is rare in Sussex. Looks like you’ve done something with the granary, also late-eighteenth-century? No actually… early nineteenth – though the barn is later. Hmm. Can I have a look inside? Are we going to camp here for the week? Do you have a tent? I guess we can go down to my flat for a shower if we need to, and maybe cook over a fire… Ooh. If you look up under the rafters, you’ll see that …”

She was cut off mid-sentence by Sidney’s lips crushed against hers. She had no idea what sparked this sudden passion, but she wasn’t going to complain. She lifted her hands to cup his face, and he bent her almost backwards teasing her mouth open, his hands spread across her back. He slowed and held her bottom lip in his own, before pulling away and she opened her eyes slowly and smiled.

He unlocked the granary and led her inside. It had been stripped back to its beams and whitewashed. The small room with its scrubbed oak floor was light, bright and almost monastic in its simplicity. There was a large woodburning stove in the middle of the room, and a stainless-steel counter and sink with a few plates and cups in the corner near the door. There was also a rug, an armchair, and an occasional chair, all of which had been plundered from the crowded attics at Trafalgar House, and at the far end, under a large modern picture window that looked out across meadows and sky, was the bed. 

“Sidney! I had no idea you had this secret hideaway. It's very Thoreau! I love it!” 

He beamed at her.

“Yes. I loved Walden as a teenager.”

She wondered for a second how many women he’d brought here, but quickly stifled the thought and the stab of jealousy that came with it.

“Dare I ask…where’s the loo?”

He gave her a worried look.

“It’s outside. And there’s an outdoor shower too, though I usually just bathe in the river….is that a deal breaker?”

“No, of course not. Just wanted to make sure there was one.”

She wandered in a little further and stopped in front of a portrait of a Byronic looking Regency gentleman that was propped up against the wall. 

“Who’s this?

Sidney laughed.

“Ah I forgot I had that here, I keep meaning to find a place for it in London. That, you’ll be interested to know, is the original Sidney Parker! It’s actually a really terrible painting, but it was a bit of a family joke that it looked like me. It used to hang in our hallway and my parents gave it to me when I turned 18. Actually, I kind of like it here. I should put it up.”

Charlotte knelt down to have a better look. There wasn’t much resemblance to her Sidney other than hair and eye colour, but it was rather fascinating to think that this was the man who had connected their families. He was still a bit of a mystery, the documents had revealed a lot about the circumstances and people around him, but somehow he still seemed to elude her. She wanted to know, for instance, exactly what he had done in Antigua and what had happened with the widow Elizabeth Campion, but as a historian she knew that you often had to be satisfied with only partial and unfinished stories.

Charlotte stood up again and faced modern-day Sidney – her Sidney. 

“Alone at last.” She said, stepping to him and laying her head on his chest with a sigh. He kissed her head, drawing her in and moving her towards the bed where they undressed each other and made love slowly and tenderly, and with the freedom that came of knowing that there was no one around for miles to hear them.

***

The days were unusually hot, and Charlotte and Sidney fell into a drowsy summer holiday rhythm of talking, laughing, sex, reading, sunbathing, swimming, cooking, and more sex. Every moment of every day that week felt like the perfect time to tell Sidney how she felt, and yet Charlotte was held back by a nagging fear. 

She trusted him, but somehow the more in love she was the more frightened she became that everything would be spoiled somehow. Sidney also found himself waiting for some imaginary perfect moment to tell her how he felt, but since each moment so far this week was perfect, he was paradoxically afraid to say anything in case it went badly and ruined things.

The time and leisure they had to fully explore each other’s bodies was exciting, but what was going on in their minds was still a mystery.

Sidney and Charlotte had gone swimming together naked in the river and after they dried off they had made love on a blanket in the short grass. Now they were happy to spend the rest of the afternoon basking peacefully in the warm sun and watching the clouds move slowly across the sky. Sidney was stretched out on his back, naked but for a pair of sun-bleached khaki shorts, while Charlotte, who had on his damp linen shirt and a pair of cut-off jean shorts with nothing underneath, was lying with her chin on his chest. They lay there in contented silence for a long while: Charlotte examined his tanned skin and ran her fingers lovingly through the hair that was glinting golden brown in the sun, and Sidney's hand was resting inside the back of her shorts on her bare bum.

“Do you remember the Investor’s party?” she said suddenly.

“Mmmhmm," he said. "I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night in that dress. I had to go outside for a smoke to calm down after we danced.”

“And then I ruined it with my opinions.”

“I was a brute to you.” 

“I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t! You just hit a nerve, that’s all. I hope I am a different man now.”

Charlotte smiled and kissed his chest.

“No, you’re the same man … but much improved.”

Sidney opened his eyes and thought for a moment about what she had just said. He wanted to let her know how different he really felt, but he realised that he didn’t know how to say what he felt, which was so intense that it seemed beyond and maybe even slightly cheapened by words.

“Well if I have changed at all, it’s because of you. I… I’ve never wanted to put myself in someone else’s power before. I’ve never wanted to care for anyone but myself.”**

Charlotte looked up at him curiously. What was he trying to tell her? It seemed a slightly odd thing to say, and she couldn’t really understand it. She waited for him to continue, but Sidney seemed content to leave it there. After a few minutes, she sat up and stared out across the meadows below. 

Her brain had clicked into high gear, and now she was thinking about their relationship in terms of a power dynamic. Was she responsible for reforming him? And if he went back to sleeping around would that be because she had failed somehow? It all felt a bit dangerous and frightening suddenly, a responsibility she couldn’t really live up to. What if he hurt her so badly that she never recovered from it? 

Sidney still was caught up in trying to articulate his feelings and figuring out how to explain how his life had changed because of her, that he didn’t notice how Charlotte had retreated into her own thoughts. Inadvertently, he found exactly the wrong thing to say next.

“When I was in New York, I ran into a woman who I used to meet whenever I was in town. It was always a casual arrangement, and when I planned the trip way back in March, I guess I gave her my schedule so that we could meet and spend a few days together. But I forgot all about it!” he said in wonderment. 

Charlotte could feel herself going numb as he described this encounter.

“I was so wrapped up in you – and I only remembered her when she turned up at an event and suggested we leave together. It was so awkward! I had to tell her I was seeing someone and there was no way anything was going to happen between us, and then I just left. Susanna got me on the next flight home.”

“I’m flattered,” she said coldly.

Only now did Sidney seem to notice that something was not quite right. He put his hand on her back and sat up.

“Charlotte, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to mention that…”

“No of course not!” said Charlotte, her tone slightly sarcastic. “Nothing I didn’t know before. But I guess after sleeping with 60 people the world starts to feel a bit small. I’ve only known you a few months and you seem to run into old fuck buddies wherever you go!”

“Woah! That’s not fair.” 

“It’s the truth though isn’t it?” 

She looked at him for a moment, and he found he couldn’t quite read what was in her eyes. 

“I…feel like this conversation is not going down a good path,” he said carefully.

“What I am saying is that it’s not really my job to change you or reform you. Don’t you see what a fairy-tale that is? It’s the kind of pap that women are fed their entire lives, and it’s just a set up for pain, because you can’t change other people. They have to want to do that work themselves.”

Sidney was not sure what was happening and grimaced slightly as she spoke.

“So by all means carry on fucking around if you want to, just please don’t pretend you’re ready for a relationship if you’re not.”

She tried to scramble to her feet and walk away from him, but Sidney grabbed her hand and held it.

“No! don’t walk away from me like that! You can't throw that stuff in my face and walk away.  
I am an actual person, Charlotte! Stop trying to write me into some intellectual meta-analysis that you have going on in your head. I have a past – I don’t think that’s unusual, but I could do without your judgement! We said we’d talk about how we’re feeling. Please sit down and tell me what’s going on? Please!” 

His voice was almost desperate. She looked down into his concerned face.

“Sidney, you’re just going to keep running into these women, and at some point it’s going to be tempting. So what happens in a few months or years from now when I am just the girlfriend who is nagging, or gets spots, or gains weight, or is stressed? Reality sets in, and then jumping from woman to woman becomes tempting again because it’s all you’ve ever known! It’s a reflex, and it’s so much easier than being with someone who’s a living, breathing person with problems and flaws. Are you sure you’re ready for that kind of intimacy?”

Sidney was absolutely floored and now a little bit angry. Had she been thinking all of this stuff the whole time about him?

“All of that could be said about anyone. There are no guarantees about anything, Charlotte. What about you? Are you ready for that kind of intimacy?”

“I don’t have the same history as you. I’ve had relationships…”

“What, like the one that you stayed in because it was easier than finding a new flat?”

“Fuck you.”

She pulled her hand out of his and walked away towards the house.

Sidney fell back and covered his face with his hands, groaning. They had been so happy and peaceful a few minutes ago and now he wasn’t sure what had just happened. He jumped up and went after her. 

Following her into the house, he said in a voice that was shaking with emotion.

“No one is saying it’s your job to “reform” me! YOU asked me to tell you how many people I had been with and now you’re throwing it back in my face! I am not proud of it, but I was lonely and unhappy and quite fucked up, and for a few years – ok, many years – I admit that it was out of control. I don’t think I should have to apologize for not being celibate though! My only mistake was trying to be honest with you!”

“Oh don’t pull that clichéd crap with me! Honesty is not the issue here, of course you have to be honest with me, but that doesn’t mean that I will never get upset. I am questioning whether or not you are ready for where this is heading!”

Sidney was really frightened now. 

“What do you mean?! I don’t know how I could have been clearer with you!!!”

He looked at her in desperation, aware that his heart was pounding fiercely.

“What is going on, Charlotte? If you don’t want this, you don’t have to go looking for a reason to push me away! Just tell me!”

He was almost crying now, and Charlotte, who was now beside herself with anxiety, looked at the pain in his eyes and burst into tears. She sat down on the side of the bed.

“I'm sorry. I am all over the place, Sidney! I…I missed you so much last week… it was terrifying, and now I can’t stop thinking about what happens when you get bored of me and of this? You will just move on to the next willowy blonde waiting around the corner, and I will just be … devastated. Is there anywhere we can go where your past won’t come back to haunt us? How many women have you brought here, for instance? It’s been so perfect, and all I can think is …”

“I haven’t brought anyone here. Not ever! Not even my family has been in this room. You are the only one.”

She looked up, her face was red and puffy from crying. He knelt down on the floor in front of her and took her face in his hands.

“Charlotte, listen to me. There is no comparison between anything that came before and what is going on with you now. None. You came along and blew everything and everyone else out of the water, and I can barely remember what my life was like before I met you in May. You didn’t change me. I was ready to change. I wanted to change so that I could be with you.”

He tilted her head up. They both had tears in their eyes.

“I love you! I am so in love with you that I had to stop myself from saying it the first time we were together so I wouldn’t scare you away. I am so in love that I have planned the next fifty years of my life with you in my head!”

He kissed her lips softly and continued. 

“I am not so stupid and shallow that I think it’s going to be easy, especially when we have to start living in the real world together and juggling our jobs and priorities and social lives, but I have never wanted to try that with anyone else, and I am pretty confident that we can work through most problems. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, Lotte, the real you, with all your edges and flaws – because you do have quite a few!”

She laughed and sniffed. 

“I didn’t say it before because I didn’t want to rush you or pressure you, and you don’t have to say it back now. I just don’t want you to spend another second doubting how ready I am for this.” 

Charlotte buried her head on his shoulder sobbing and laughing.

“I wanted to say it first!” she sobbed loudly into his shoulder. “I have been looking for the right moment for days!” 

He wrapped his arms round her and smiled.

“Sorry, too late! Missed your chance – instead you picked a fight with me!”

Charlotte tried to compose herself. She lifted her head from his shoulder and ran her hands gently through his hair looking deep into his beautiful eyes.

“I love you, Sidney. 

His eyes darkened and he leaned forward to find her lips with his own. His hands reached into her hair, tilting her head to deepen their kiss, his tongue searching her mouth, his lips working her mouth further open as if he could never get enough of her taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** I am probably in the minority, but I’ve always been disappointed by Sidney’s 
> 
> “I am a different man down to you/ I never wanted to be in anyone’s power before/ I never wanted to care about anyone but myself” speech at the midsummer ball, especially when contrasted with Babington’s wonderful declaration of unconditional love. 
> 
> Obviously, he didn't get to finish it but I also assume that it was underwhelming because it was not meant to be the final proposal, but rather his first attempt at explaining the development of his feelings. 
> 
> I was trying to play with that a bit here.


	36. Intimacies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the discussion on the last chapter! I really enjoy reading everyone's different analyses and understandings of these two characters, both in my story and in the tv series. I also just love how passionate and opinionated everyone is about it!
> 
> This is the last chapter and the next will be an epilogue.
> 
> Though I could probably imagine a few more seminal moments in Sidney and Charlotte's relationship, I think we all might get bored of reading them, so I have decided to draw a line under it.
> 
> I also have a playlist of songs for each chapter, but not sure if anyone's interested in that – it's an eclectic music list that most definitely will not be to everyone's taste, but it's stuff that I listened to when I was thinking of the mood for each chapter.
> 
> Also, warning of some sexy content here – choose your time and place of reading accordingly.

Autumn came, and Charlotte commuted between London and her Sanditon flat at first. It seemed pointless to pay three times as much for a studio apartment in London and have almost the same travel time to her lectures and her office at the university. 

They decided that when she knew she would have a busy day of teaching or meetings she would simply stay over at Sidney’s – in fact she stayed over at Sidney’s every night, or he came up to Sanditon for the weekend and stayed with her. Without ever mentioning it or noticing it, they were never willing to be apart for even a night unless one or the other was away. 

Mindful that she might be wary of giving up her own place after her experience with her previous boyfriend, Sidney let her move slowly, but he took every opportunity to encourage her to see his home as her own. By the end of September, his bathroom was overrun with tampons, face creams, fancy shampoo, hair bobbles and pins, and her electric toothbrush; his kitchen had her favourite tea, breakfast muesli and a jar of organic peanut butter, even though he hated the stuff; half his cupboards and drawers were quickly filling with her underwear, clothes and other things; there was a stack of books on the table on her side of the bed with a pot of her lip balm resting on top; and when he buried his face in the pillow next to his own it smelled permanently of her. 

“Are we still pretending that you live in Sanditon? Or are you ready to just officially move in here with me yet? Because Marion is going to need a month’s notice for your flat” he asked casually one morning, as they were both getting ready for work in the bathroom.

Charlotte smiled coyly and turned to look at him. She hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she had been hoping that he would ask. 

“Are you sure?”

He put his hands around her waist and lifted her up easily onto the vanity, pushing himself between her knees. She wrapped her arms around him underneath his jacket, and they kissed tenderly. 

“What do you think? Do I seem sure?”

***

They were happy, very happy, and there were plenty of meetings at his rooms in Bedford Place (which was near her office) in the middle of the day, but living together was not always easy. Charlotte’s teaching load was heavy, she had been given two demanding administrative jobs, and the peer review and copyediting stage of publishing her book took up a lot of time and energy. After one particularly difficult day, in which she had taught three different classes, had sat through a tense 90-minute departmental meeting that had devolved into a shouting match between two eminent professors, and had spent another two hours meeting with her students, including comforting and advising one who was in serious distress, Charlotte came home and cried on Sidney’s shoulder. He was sympathetic and loving, and he seemed to know how to listen without trying to fix or find solutions to everything. 

September and October were busy times for the gallery as well, and Sidney was increasingly away for work or out at dinners and events in the evening, and Charlotte hated being alone in his apartment; they argued sometimes about it and their arguments were passionate, sometime jealous, and always ended in bed. 

That first period of building trust was intense for both of them but particularly for Sidney. He was used to having no ties and to being emotionally independent, and his love for Charlotte felt overwhelming at times to the point of being painful. He worried that each argument was a rupture that could break them apart, though reassuringly Charlotte never seemed to ever see it in that light; he found it easier to express his love physically and was only just learning how to say what he felt. 

The more intimate they became the more he found himself struggling with jealousy and thinking about her previous boyfriends, lovers, and her male colleagues whom she met for drinks after work and at conferences. He tried to hide it because he knew it was irrational and that he trusted her, but he also felt so incredibly vulnerable and it was a new experience.

She was like oxygen to him, but he had been away so often these past month for work that he began to worry she’d grow tired of the life they were trying to build together – old fears and emotions that he had buried deep within him, now came bubbling to the surface: the abandonment he felt when his father died suddenly, and then his mother after a short illness, with the added pain of Eliza's betrayal, had left a deep and lasting scar that was only now starting to heal.

Although they also often met up with Crowe or some of Charlotte’s university friends and colleagues, or with Georgie and Otis or George and Esther, who now spent most weekends at in Babington’s house in Islington, most evenings and weekends were spent in their own bubble, cooking and talking and laughing together. 

One rainy Saturday in November found them relaxing at home. It had been a particularly tiring week, most of which Sidney spent having meetings in Milan, and now he just wanted to be at home alone with her like this. Charlotte was on her laptop going through the proofs for her book, and Sidney was stretched out on the sofa with his feet resting in her lap, eating an apple and reading the newspaper. Charlotte, who had been chattering periodically about her work, went silent for a moment. 

“Oh. John’s just written me. He heard that I will be up in Cambridge on Thursday for that talk, and he wants to meet for a coffee … he still has a few of my books and things he wants to give back….”

Sidney’s stomach dropped; he looked up scowling and spoke without thinking. 

“No! No fucking way!” 

Charlotte frowned.

“What do you mean ‘no fucking way’? I wasn’t asking your permission. I was just letting you know that I am going to meet John for a coffee on Thursday.” 

Sidney swung his feet down from her lap and got up. He threw his paper back on the sofa and walked away angrily. After a moment of shock, Charlotte closed her computer and stood up to go after him. He was standing in the kitchen apparently looking for something, but it seemed to be just an excuse for banging cupboard doors. She watched him for a minute, trying to figure out what was going on: she was usually the one whose temper flared, but Sidney’s sudden, and slightly concerning, fury at something that she saw as relatively minor, was unusual.

“What’s going on Sidney?”

No answer.

“Hello? You can’t just ignore me. Please tell me…”

“I think it’s pretty obvious. I don’t want you to see him.”

“But why? He’s not a threat to us. I love you.” 

She moved over to him and pushed herself up against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him with a winning smile. But Sidney had retreated into himself and would not look at her or return her affection, his hands rested resolutely behind him on the kitchen counter and he looked out the window.

Charlotte stepped back from him, she could feel tears of anger and disappointment start to prick her eyes. It was unlike him to not return her embrace.

“Sidney! This is something I have to do … not least because I want my books back! Don’t you trust me?”

“I can’t count the times you’ve had a go at me about other women, none of them anywhere near as serious as you were with John, and now you’re wondering why I don’t want you to see him?”

“I know, and I understand what you’re saying, but it’s not quite the same Sidney!”

“No, it’s worse!”

“I owe John this gesture.”

“You don’t owe him anything. He asked you to leave.”

“Because he knew I didn’t love him!”

“Which again makes it worse. He’s certainly not over you!”

“I am not sure that’s true, and in any case it doesn’t matter! I am in love with you! I have a life with you now! John is irrelevant to us!”

“So don’t meet him. Ask him to send the books.” Replied Sidney stubbornly. 

Charlotte was exasperated and annoyed. In her mind, she had made it incredibly clear that her relationship with John was not comparable to what she had with Sidney. She was surprised by what seemed like his sudden angry jealousy. Initially there had been something sweet about it, but now it felt a bit irrational and controlling. Despite her initial worry about Sidney’s various “conquests,” and how they might affect his ability to commit to her, Charlotte had worked hard to overcome her own fears, and she had learned to trust him completely. 

She had no idea that Sidney had been struggling with these kinds of insecurities since they had got together, or even before, because instead of talking about it, he had let his shame take over and tried to bury his feelings. But there was no burying them now. Sidney’s anxiety had turned this into a fight or flight situation, and he was no longer thinking straight.

They argued about it for a while in circles, until finally Charlotte cried out in frustration

“Sidney! This is ridiculous and controlling. You don’t own me!!”

“Yes, I do!!”

There was a terrible pause, as Sidney realised what he had just said. The shock was written all over Charlotte’s face and his own. 

He reached for her, but she shrank away from his touch and he felt as though he might be sick. Had he finally gone too far, and pushed her away forever? He wouldn’t blame her if he had. What he had said was repugnant and he hated himself for it, because in his heart he knew that he wished it was true and it would mean that he wouldn’t have to even consider what his life would be like without her. Now that he had opened the storm gates and had let her completely into his life, all of the repressed feelings of the last fifteen years had started rushing out in an emotional tsunami. He had tried to hide it, but he couldn’t any more.

“I’m sorry Charlotte! I didn’t mean that! I don’t know why I said it. I.. I am just scared of losing you.” 

Charlotte was angry, very angry and a little bit frightened by the intensity of his words, but then she looked at his sad and distraught face and softened. She thought about how traumatic his relationship with Eliza had been, how alone he was when his mother died and she betrayed him during the worst time in his life, how he had spiraled and then found a way to pull himself out of his own grief and pain to become the de facto carer and fixer in his family, and how hard it must sometimes be for him to be this close to someone else and to learn to trust again. They were so happy and so in love, and she knew that he’d already moved miles out of his comfort zone for her; this one stupid mistake, born out of anxiety and fear couldn’t erase all of that. Her love was unconditional, and she wanted him to know it. He needed to know it.

“You won’t lose me! I love you, Sidney. You can’t own me; I am already yours – totally and completely – and I am not going anywhere, but you do have to trust me.” 

She saw a faint look of relief cross his face and then of deep sadness and shame, and she stepped forward and stood on her tip toes to kiss him. Some part of her knew that in his emotional confusion, only physical love would give him the comfort he needed at this moment, and she wanted him.

He leaned into her immediately, grasping her around the waist, desperate to feel her closeness again, and to show her how sorry he was and how much he loved her.

“I am so sorry.” He whispered in her ear. “Forgive me.”

He picked her up and carried her downstairs to their bedroom. Her hands were already creeping under his shirt and over his back tugging to pull it up and off, and he moaned lightly as Charlotte gently sucked on his earlobe and kissed his neck. He laid her down on to the bed and she leaned back on her forearms and watched as he unbuttoned the old shirt that had been his and that she still wore around the house. She was not wearing a bra and he swept it off her shoulders and then reached down to pull off her jeans and underpants as well as his own. Climbing over her, he wrapped his arm around her back to hold her towards him and devoured her neck, her shoulder, her ear, biting and sucking at her gently. 

Charlotte’s hand swept over his muscular thighs and ass. She moaned and arched her back towards him as he took her nipple in his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. She would never get tired of this, she thought. Never get tired of the feel of his firm, confident hands on her skin, or his mouth. Sidney’s touch became more urgent and she could feel his fingers pressing almost painfully into her hips, he trailed his tongue heavily down her breastbone between her breasts to her navel and across her thighs, and taking her legs over his shoulders, his lips and tongue then moved slowly down to enclose her pearl. As his tongue explored her, she moaned and arched towards him, moving her hips against his mouth, frantically searching for release. In one swift movement Sidney pulled back and slipped into her. They both moaned loudly at the now familiar pleasure of being joined. Charlotte loved to watch his face in this moment, the way he reared up above her, the way his eyes closed, and his lips parted. His pleasure was incredibly sensual. She reached up to pull his face down to hers and they locked eyes and began to move slowly together. After a few minutes, Sidney flipped them over to bring her on top and he lifted himself slightly on his arms to watch her ride him: her eyes closed, back arched, her beautiful breasts in the air and her hair tumbling around her face and shoulders. He reached up and caressed her stomach and breasts, his fingers pinching and teasing her nipples until they were raised to rosy peaks and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to take first one in his mouth and then the other. 

She grasped his shoulders, digging her nails into the skin on his back and moved her hips slowly against him. Rocking together, kissing and grasping at each other, they seemed frantic to find a greater closeness that always seemed just beyond reach. Sidney held her hips firmly onto him and lay back on the bed, losing himself in the feeling of being in her and Charlotte pushed her hands onto his chest riding him into a frenzy of sensation, faster and harder until they both arched and came loudly at the same time.

Charlotte fell forward on to his chest and Sidney grabbed her bum to hold her fast to him so that she could feel him pulsing in her. They lay there together a few minutes, panting and silent and Charlotte pressed her lips against his and murmured.

“I love you, and I’ve never loved anyone like this.”

***

They spent the next few hours, in each other’s arms, talking. Sidney unloaded all the stresses of work over the past week and eventually, grudgingly, agreed that it was perfectly reasonable for Charlotte to have a casual, friendly coffee with her ex-boyfriend to collect some of her books. All of her other things had been couriered down from her supervisor’s house in Cambridge weeks ago and these were her last physical connections to the place.

“We probably shouldn’t use sex to solve all of our problems.” Charlotte said teasingly, rubbing his nose with her own and cuddling into his chest.

“Why not? It seems to work perfectly.” He said smiling. “I feel much better.”

“Ha. Well I am not saying we should take it entirely out of the repertoire, but Sidney…” she sat up on her elbow and said in a more serious tone “…do you think it’s possible that there are some other things going on here for you? You’re not usually so… angry.”

“Are you suggesting I need therapy, Charlotte?”

Sidney sounded a bit bemused.

“Not necessarily, though I don’t think that it could hurt. Just that it would be perfectly normal for you to have trust and abandonment issues after everything that happened with Eliza and your parents…. If..if you want to talk about it – you know I am always here.”

He drew her in and kissed her forehead, and suddenly he realised that he was crying.


	37. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so after having made a whole song and dance about how this was going to be just an epilogue, I have completely reversed course: I just had a renewed burst of inspiration and planned a few more chapters. 
> 
> I was so tired after the last two chapters that I thought that I had nothing left in the tank for this story, but it turns out that I was wrong. Sorry to mess you around and Merry Christmas! These last few chapters are pure flights of fancy - just me having fun now and released from the events of the TV series.
> 
> That said, I really do need to slow down the posting so I can get some work done; next chapter won't be up for few days at least.
> 
> Thanks for reading and for caring about this!

Charlotte met John at the cafe they used to go to around the corner from his flat. He was just as she remembered, tall, slim and handsome, elegant and academic, with longish hair that he continually swept off his face when he talked. She admitted to herself that it was nice to see him again after 9 months, but she had no nostalgia for their relationship. In fact, seeing him underscored once again just how relieved she was that he had ended it; god knows how long she might have let it drag on and then she might have never met Sidney. The thought made her shudder. They hugged, and she noticed he held her a bit longer than necessary before she pulled away. He avoided her eye, handed her a canvas shopping bag with her things and they sat down with their drinks. Though she had no idea if he had had any ulterior motives for asking to meet with her, Charlotte was not going to leave anything to chance: she made a point of mentioning Sidney only a few minutes into their conversation. 

John stared for a moment and then shook his head in disbelief. He raised an eyebrow before saying with a sarcastic laugh,

“That was quick Charlotte, even for you. And you’re living with him too? Because that worked out so great for you the last time!”

Charlotte sighed; she’d forgotten how passive-aggressive he could be, but she wasn’t going to let it pass as she had done so many times before.

“Don’t be a dick, John.”

He paused and looked at her for a minute, before asking somewhat sombrely,

“Do you love him?”

Charlotte tried to be sensitive, but she couldn’t keep the contented smile off her face as she nodded and said simply.

“Yeah, I do.”

There was another pause; John seemed to be contemplating asking something else, but he changed his mind and instead said sincerely.

“Then I am happy for you Charlie.”

They talked briefly about how things had ended between them and apologised to each other for their part in that catastrophic evening; after another half hour of general chat about university life and mutual acquaintances they said goodbye and left each other, if not quite friends, then at least with no hard feelings. Charlotte was relieved that it had gone so well. Though she had downplayed it a bit to Sidney, she wasn’t at all sure that John hadn’t been feeling out whether a reconciliation was possible or maybe planning some sort of show down with her if he had heard about her new relationship through mutual friends. Either way she knew that she had to face him again so that they could both move on.

Sidney had managed to quell most of his anxiety about Charlotte’s meeting. In the cold light of day, he knew he’d been unreasonable. After all, he hadn’t said no when Eliza had asked him to come back to her place so many months ago. It was natural to want to clear the air with an old flame and to hear what they had to say. But when the thought jumped into his head that John might try to kiss Charlotte the way Eliza had done him, he wanted to put his fist through the wall, and that unfamiliar rage and jealousy scared him. He knew he didn’t want to control Charlotte, not really. He just wanted to control his own fears a bit better so that he would not be at the mercy of the emotions that had been crashing over him in waves almost since the day he’d met her. 

After their argument and conversation afterwards, Sidney felt a bit clearer: he knew he had buried the trauma and grief he felt over both his parents’ deaths. He had used Eliza’s humiliating betrayal, his behavior afterwards, and the pressure he had put on himself to solve every family problem ever since to justify and fortify his emotional detachment. It had taken Charlotte to start to break down the walls he had built up, but now he knew that if he wanted to make things work in the long term with her, he needed a bit more help to understand and process what he was feeling. He called Susan’s wife Alice – a clinical psychologist – and asked if she would recommend someone whom he could talk to a few times a month.

Sidney was already home by the time Charlotte returned that evening. He had gone for a run and was just getting out of the shower as she came in. She lay down on the bed to watch him dry off, admiring the glimmering rivulets of water that were highlighting the muscles in his chest, hips and legs. He asked how her talk had gone, and after telling him about it, she also told him about her conversation with John afterwards. He dried his hair with a towel and listened calmly, only once looking back at her skeptically when she told him that John was happy for her. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he sat down next to her on the bed and allowed her to pull him down to lie beside her.

“Are you OK?” she asked between kisses, her hand moving down to undo the towel.

“Yeah, I think so.” He ran his hand through her hair and pulled her face up to look at her, “I am really sorry, Charlotte.”

“Don’t be sorry. We’ll get through it,” she was kissing his neck now.

“Well, I’ve thought a lot about what we talked about on the weekend, and today I called Alice to ask if she knows anyone I could talk to.”

Charlotte stopped her kisses and sat up on her elbow to look down at him in surprise, her eyes shining a little.

“Really?”

Then he told her about the appointments he’d made; she reached out and drew him into her arms and held him tight.

***

The lead up to Christmas was busy with the usual rounds of Christmas parties and drinks, and although she had not come to the Gallery’s staff weekend away, Sidney insisted that Charlotte come with him to WBP’s annual December party. Georgiana had warned her that a lot of people would be curious about Sidney Parker’s girlfriend, and she was nervous and unsure about it.

Although Sidney had always brought women to these events as dates, no one was ever under any illusion that he was in a serious relationship. Now it had got out that he was not only in love, but that he was actually already living with his new partner. Sidney’s reputation as a handsome, charming, inscrutable man about town meant that there was a certain amount of interest in Charlotte amongst his colleagues at the gallery, but also in general in the London art world. She was grateful that at least Georgiana and Esther would be there as well, so at least she wouldn’t feel so alone and scrutinized. She knew that Sidney would certainly have to talk to a lot of people, and she didn’t want to get in the way or have to hang around uncomfortably on the fringes of work conversations.

It was a cocktail event and Charlotte had bought a new dress for the occasion. She was happy to see the appreciative look in Sidney’s eyes when she put it on. It was a simple but elegant short sleeve, forest green velvet dress that crossed loosely across her chest and dipped low in the back. She wore the family gold earrings and her hair was parted in the middle and half up in loose waves. 

Charlotte had been in the gallery quite a few times since September. She already knew Susanna reasonably well and liked her no-nonsense professional discretion and the way she very lightly poked fun at situations and encouraged Sidney to calm down when he got wound up at work. She had also got to know Babington, Susan and her wife Alice, as well as Otis much better and she liked them all a lot; she and Sidney often socialized with them in their rather gorgeous, World of Interiors- quality homes. 

Still, tonight would be the first time she was to meet Sidney’s entire professional and social world as his partner, and it suddenly felt a bit daunting. His world was far more glamorous than anything she had previously been accustomed to; she wondered if she would fit in. He held her hand tightly as they walked in and they were immediately accosted by a business acquaintance. After a few minutes of introduction and conversation, Charlotte moved to slip away and let Sidney talk about work alone, but he held her fast to him and drew her into the conversation, keeping her with him until he was able to move on. He did this with everyone they met, sometimes holding her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles reassuringly and at other times placing his hand gently on her back or around her waist, and she could see that others considered these gestures of affection very unusual for him. 

Georgiana was absolutely right, the gossip at the gallery and beyond had been about Sidney’s mysterious new girlfriend, whom nobody knew anything about, and how his mood had completely changed since she came on the scene. She was looked at with interest for the first thirty minutes after their arrival, but after that everyone seemed to simply move on and accept her presence. Only then did Charlotte realise that Sidney had brought her around the room with him, keeping her by his side, on purpose.

“That was very smooth.”

“What do you mean?” he said, sneaking a kiss on her neck. 

“You just made it very clear to everyone here where we stand.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not. Just wondering why.”

He shrugged.

“That’s just how this world works, Lotte. I wanted to get the gossip part of the evening out of the way early … and I wanted to make it clear to everyone here that you’re the love of my life, not just another date.”

Charlotte’s stomach did a flip at his words, and she smiled up at him adoringly; he kissed her again lightly, on the lips this time, knowing full well that many people were watching. They were interrupted by Georgiana who was her usual immaculate, beautiful self in a short white shift dress and red suede booties. She greeted them both affectionately and then rolled her eyes.

“Oh god you two! Everyone’s talking about this new and improved Sidney Parker. You’ll have a hard time frightening the gallery staff after the lovey-dovey show you’ve put on tonight, Sidney!”

Now it was Sidney’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Don’t tease him, Georgie,” said Otis who came up behind her, grinning as she leaned back into him.

They chatted and joked for a while and were soon joined by Babington and a radiant Esther who was wearing a ruffled, off the shoulder jumpsuit. Charlotte had never seen her so relaxed and open. Esther had had a horrific few months after pressing charges against her brother. Her aunt had turned against her publicly and the tabloids had fanned the flames, relishing in every sordid detail of the battle between two aristocratic siblings. Lady Denham was furious at Esther for airing in public what she considered their dirty laundry and there had been a battle Royale over control of Denham House, which had ended with Esther handing in her resignation and a large number of staff on all levels following her out the door in solidarity. Babington had stuck by her through it all, and with the help of Babington’s ex-wife, who was a barrister, they had eventually seen Edward convicted of simple assault – though he only received what amounted to a slap on the wrist and a fine. 

Esther was now living mostly at Babington’s house in Islington while she took meetings set up by executive recruiters and negotiated positions for the staff who had left Denham House with her. Though she had never considered herself particularly fond of children before, six-year old Tacita Babington, with all the natural charm she had inherited from her father and the forthrightness she had learned from her mother, had won her around completely. They were already forming a strong connection that made George incredibly happy to watch. Esther had also earned the trust of Babington’s ex, Josie, and the blended family they were beginning to create was an unexpected and real source of comfort and joy to her. 

The others were eventually pulled away into different conversations and Charlotte felt a hand on her arm. She turned to see Susan who greeted her with a friendly kiss. Susan was wearing a loose gold tunic and trouser suit with stilettos. Her hair was down in a sharp bob cut and she wore her signature bright red lipstick.**

“Come have a drink with me, Charlotte,” she commanded.

The two women moved to the bar and sat together on stools at the end; Susan ordered them both a vodka gimlet.

“I am pleased for you, darling,” she began.

“Thanks Susan. I am so happy.”

“Sidney too – everyone can see it tonight. It will not have been easy for him, but I am relieved that he seems to have broken through whatever block he was struggling with. I thought I was going to be forced to have word with him. For him to miss out on this – on you – would have been a terrible waste. Most men don’t know how to deal with pain. They’re taught to inure themselves to it with sport and violence and banter and drink and silence, and then when it finally and inevitably comes crashing in, they mix it up with every other emotion until they don’t know their ass from their elbow.”*

Charlotte smiled and nodded.

“I just don’t want to mother him, you know?” she said seriously.

“Oh, Christ no darling! A person should only have one mother! But love is all there is, Charlotte; and you must never hold back – you need to grab it by the nipples and go for it. Because when you’re 50 and you look back at the first stage of the life you’ve lived you don’t want to ever have to think – I should have taken that chance and I didn’t because I was frightened. You want to be able to say, I fucked, I loved, I hurt, and yes, I was hurt – and I chose someone who made me feel alive whatever the consequences. That’s the only thing – the most important thing – it’s all there is in the end, really.” *

Charlotte smiled as Susan spoke and thought about how much she admired her and her attitude to life. She felt Sidney’s arm slide around her shoulder, and instinctively leaned into him inhaling the unmistakable scent that never failed to make her go weak in the knees. 

“Sorry to interrupt this conversation.”

“Yes, you are interrupting, Sidney. We were just talking about you. But now I am done.”

Susan finished her drink and got up. She put her hand lightly on Sidney’s shoulder before walking off towards a group of people.

“Let’s dance.” He whispered in Charlotte’s ear and they walked back together to the dance floor with their arms around each other's waists. His hand was warm and smooth on the skin on her back, reminding her of the first time they had danced together, and she could feel his breath on her neck as he pressed her close to him, swaying to the music.

“Sidney,” she breathed in his ear “When can we go home? I want to make love to you.”

He swallowed hard and tried to maintain his composure. Grinning into her hair he said

“I would like nothing more, but am afraid I am in a bit of a bind here. If I let go of you now, I’ll embarrass myself in front of everyone, but if I don’t let go of you there’s no way I’ll ever be able to get this under control.”

They both burst out laughing.

“You’ll have to think of something very unappealing then!”

Shortly afterwards they slipped away and went home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * This chat was inspired by Kristin Scott Thomas's epic speech about female pain/pleasure and life in Season 2 of Fleabag.
> 
> ** also, in my mind Susan is a cross between my idols KST, Tilda Swinton, and a few extraordinary women that I have known over the years.
> 
> Charlotte's outfit  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/268949408984142122/
> 
> Georgie's outfit  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/832251206128534966/
> 
> Esther's outfit  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/AbPpAR9j5icHLAW7x_cC02y7nrkdlwzvInFDpDXebkWTPXUIpNMAvjQ/
> 
> Susan's outfit  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/192247477831932244/


	38. Christmas in Willingden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay. This is a bit of a long, rambly chapter. Not really sure why I wanted to write this into the story, but it just came to me like this and I guess I've always been interested in the Heywoods.
> 
> Apologies - No time to proof read this eve!

Christmas would be spent in Willingden, but Sidney and Charlotte planned to drive to Sanditon on Boxing Day and celebrate with the Parkers before heading to Sidney's property for New Years Eve together. Since Georgiana was spending Christmas with Otis’s family and then was flying with him to Antigua on holiday afterwards, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to spend some more time getting to know the Heywoods. 

Sidney was finally going to meet Charlotte’s brother Edward. He was very curious and maybe even a tiny bit envious of this adored older brother whom Charlotte still spoke about with the starry-eyed awe of a fourteen-year old. He couldn’t count the times she’d begun a sentence with “Eddie says…” or “Eddie always…” and Allie, who had stayed with them in London when she came down for a job interview a few weeks ago, was exactly the same. Their stories, their memories, their banter, even their sad memories all seemed to have Edward Heywood at the centre.

Edward was two years older than Charlotte and the eldest of all the Heywood siblings. He was by all accounts an affectionate, handsome, charismatic, and protective older brother and they all looked up to him. Though she spoke more regularly with Allie, Charlotte also texted her brother often about mundane or family things and occasionally they would speak on the phone. When he rang on her birthday in October, for instance, Sidney watched bemused as Charlotte wandered around the house for over an hour with the phone stuck to her face, alternately bantering with him or crying with laughter at their endless in-jokes. Sometimes Charlotte’s voice lowered, and he knew that they were discussing him. 

Edward Heywood had done his degree in environmental engineering, but had spent four years afterwards travelling the world by train, boat and bus; he had been a professional sailor for a spell; and now he was working in Bristol for a firm that specialized in sustainable development, but it was no secret that he was one day expected to take over Willingden as every Edward Heywood before him had done. 

Although Charlotte had not worried at all about introducing Sidney to any of her other friends and family, she did worry about introducing him to Eddie, who was very protective of them all – especially the girls. She’d told him that his attitude was paternalistic and patriarchal, a reproach that he fully and wholeheartedly agreed with – and cheerfully ignored. 

It had occurred to Charlotte more than once that although Eddie was more spontaneous, emotional, and voluble than Sidney, they were quite similar in some ways – they both took on more responsibility for the people they loved than was needed, they were both worriers underneath all the bravado and charm, and they both had an intense alpha energy that she feared could cause some uncomfortable moments if they didn’t get on.

And it was really important to her that they got on because, other than Allie, Eddie was her best friend, and her number one supporter and teacher; he always had been. He had taught her how to shoot and how to climb trees; how to build a fire and make a splint; how to slap down a bully with words and how to command respect from anyone she met; he’d comforted her in heartbreak and laughed at her when she got too up herself. They occasionally had flaming arguments the way siblings do, but whatever the disagreement it was always forgotten about by the next day. 

Though his opinion meant the world to her, she knew already that her relationship with Sidney was non-negotiable, and she shuddered to think of the problems it might cause if Eddie refused to accept him. He had been almost nasty to John, which had made her uncomfortable enough, and she considered if it would be worth warning Sidney or not. Allie said not, and she was inclined to agree. If she made Sidney nervous or wary, he might not be natural and his best chance when Eddie challenged him, which he almost certainly would do, was just to be himself and not back down.

Charlotte and Sidney exchanged their gifts the day before they left for Sussex. Charlotte was a bit nervous about her gift: Sidney didn’t seem to like stuff just for the sake of it. He wasn’t the guy to appreciate a whiskey subscription or a novelty mug. Everything he owned seemed to have some particular significance or meaning for him – or at least was useful to him, like the cupboard full of beautiful expensive suits that he wore to work but seemed to care little about otherwise. He even seemed a bit embarrassed to receive a gift, as though he was worried that he would have to pretend to like it, but when he opened it and looked up at her with soft eyes, she knew she’d hit on the right thing this time. She’d given him an out-of-print book on the modernist architecture of Asmara, a vinyl album of Nigerian Highlife music from the 1970s that he had once mentioned in passing, and a snapshot taken in Willingden of the two of them laughing with Sidney’s arm around her shoulder.

“Thank you, Lotte.” He said kissing her and shaking his head almost in disbelief. “I really love it. I love Asmara, it’s this hidden modernist jewel that no one ever talks about; I was there so long ago. I’ll take you there sometime when it’s safe again – it’s an architectural historian’s dream. I don't know why I don't have this book already… But this album … how did you even know I wanted this particular album?”

“You mentioned it a long time ago, when you were telling me about all the music scene in Lagos – that time we had a drink in the Crowne with Arthur. I asked Georgie to look out for it and she found it for me.”

“You remembered that?”

“I remember everything about that evening. It was the first time we really talked.” She said simply, blushing. 

He kissed her tenderly and then put the album straight onto his record player, and pinned the photo of them to his bookshelf beside one of his entire family. He looked up at her and almost shyly pushed his Christmas gift, which was wrapped in newspaper, across the table towards her.

“Sorry, I don’t do wrapping … Susanna usually… and I haven’t given a Christmas gift to a girlfriend … since … well, for a long time, so please don’t be afraid to say if you hate it. It can go back, and you can choose something else or something completely different or whatever you want …” 

Charlotte laughed and squeezed his hand. He seemed kind of nervous.

It was a small square box and for a split second Charlotte entertained the thought of a ring and freaked out a little bit inside – from joy or panic she couldn’t quite tell – but then her common sense told her it was slightly too big for a ring, that it was definitely too early for all of that, and if and when they ever came to that point this probably wasn’t how Sidney would do it, and she calmed down.

She opened the box and pulled out what looked like a string of fine yellow gold sticks which were hooked together to form a delicate and irregular collarbone grazing necklace. 

“Maybe it was stupid of me to buy it. Do you think it’s too much? Really, if you don’t like it, I can take it back…it…it just reminded me of you somehow when I saw it – delicate but strong – and I bought it on a whim.”

“I love it, Sidney.” She said seriously. “It’s really perfect, absolutely perfect. Thank you.”

She let him put it on her and he traced her collarbone gently with his fingers as he adjusted and fastened it.

“I’m relieved you like it, because I lied – I can’t take it back. I bought it when I was in Milan in November…”

She laughed and reached up to bring his face to hers, kissing him hard and teasing his mouth open while she ran her hands through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

****

They pulled into the lane that led up to Willingden house by around noon the next day, and everyone came out onto the drive to meet them. Allie and Luke had arrived a few days before from Edinburgh and Manchester respectively, and the younger ones had already been off school for four days. 

“Where’s Edz? He said he’d be here this morning.” Charlotte asked her mum as they walked back into the house with their arms around each other.

“Oh you know Eddie! He got delayed with something in Bristol, but he said he’ll be here this evening. I suspect he just wants to make a bit of an entrance,” replied her mum with an indulgent smile.

Charlotte chuckled.

“Yeah, sounds like him. Listen, Mum I am going to need your help making sure things go smoothly between him and Sidney. I haven’t warned Sidney – but do you think I should?”

“No darling! Leave them to act like silverback gorillas if they must, you’ll only cause the problems you want to avoid if you start anticipating them – remember what happened with Murray? I’ll do my best to make sure the chest thumping doesn’t get out of hand, but I think Sidney can probably handle himself.”

Charlotte wasn’t too sure, but she let her mother’s words reassure her for now. Besides, she knew that her mother was the only one Eddie ever really listened to, probably because she very rarely interfered.

It was just after dinner when Eddie finally turned up. Everyone was tidying and washing up after supper when his booming voice echoed out from the hall, followed a half a minute later by his 6ft3 frame bending to come through the old Tudor door that led into the kitchen. He already had Freddy under his arm, and he laughed when he saw everyone else busy with the washing.

He put Freddy down and laughed. “Looks like I came just in time.” 

“Edz!!”

“Lottie!!” Charlotte flung herself at him and he gave her a huge affectionate bear hug, lifting her up off the ground.

“I haven’t seen you since Easter! Been busy I gather?” he ruffled her hair and jerked his head at Sidney. Charlotte introduced them; they were almost the same height, though Eddie was a touch taller and they held each other’s gaze and shook hands far too long and far too firmly for Charlotte’s liking. 

Allie rolled her eyes. “Let the games begin,” she said slightly under her breath but loud enough for everyone to hear as she broke the moment of sizing up by flinging her arms around Eddie. He twirled her around. 

“Allz!”

Eddie went through them all one by one, hugging everyone and calling them by the special nickname he’d coined for them. He saved his last greeting for his parents, embracing his father affectionately.

“Hiya papa.” He was the only one who still called their dad that, though they had all done it as small children. Even Freddy called him dad now. And then he moved towards his mother.

“Have you eaten Eddie?” Claudia asked, as he kissed her forehead and put his arm around her fondly in a wordless greeting. “I’ve saved you a plate.”

Eddie took his plate and sat down at the table to eat. Sidney noticed how Allie and Charlotte drew close and sat around him. They fell immediately into their little group of three, laughing and joking around and talking about people they all knew from school. Sidney was fascinated by this side of Charlotte; she was supremely relaxed with her siblings, and had he cared to explore it, he might have even admitted that he was a tiny bit envious of the amount of rapt attention that Eddie seemed to be able to monopolise so effortlessly. They didn’t exactly ignore him, in fact Charlotte often looked up to catch his eye and smile, but they were so comfortable with each other and in the particular history they shared that it was impossible not to feel slightly excluded. Sidney pushed such thoughts away; he was not used to feeling ignored, and he also felt it was slightly beneath him to feel that way about Charlotte’s siblings. If they were going to build a life together, and he wanted that that more than anything, he needed to fully accept these relationships and not try to get in the way of them. Though he loved his own siblings and was close to them, they were all very different, and in a way he felt that his relationship with Babington and Crowe was closer – boarding school could do that to you.

Sidney excused himself early to head to bed shortly after Mr and Mrs Heywood and the younger siblings disappeared, and when Charlotte looked up anxiously, wondering if she should go with him or stay up chatting to her brother as she clearly wanted to, he smiled reassuringly, and urged her to stay put. Squeezing her shoulder, he said goodnight to the others and disappeared to the freshly plastered bedroom in the west wing that Claudia had managed to prepare for them this time.

Eddie watched him leave the room with curious, appraising eyes, and then he turned back to observe his sister shrewdly while leaning back in his chair.

“So… still happy with Mr. Byronic, Lottie? You always did have a dark academia vibe. He’s better than that pompous dick you used to live with, I’ll give you that.”

Charlotte smirked.

“High praise from you! And yes, I am happier than I have ever been – thank you.”

Allie looked at them both, and seeing something was afoot with Eddie, she decided to change the subject.

“How’s Serena, Edz?”

There was a pause.

“Uh, we broke up a few weeks ago – well actually she broke up.”

Eddie looked sad for a moment. Turning away from his sisters’ serious and startled stares, he began to wash his plate.

Allie and Charlotte exchanged worried glances.

“What!?” cried Allie “No!! I loved her! She was the only woman you’ve ever brought home who could totally silence you!”

Charlotte frowned, and said in a more serious tone

“What did you do Eddie?”

“Why do you think it was my fault?” he cried defensively.

Charlotte stared at him with an incredulous expression, and he looked uncomfortable for a moment, hesitating before he continued.

“OK it was my fault. I… I got really drunk and snogged someone at a party, and when I told her about it, she ended it right there on the spot. So yeah, I was trying to be honest, but I massively fucked up…. and…and I still love her too, so yeah – it was really stupid.”

“Jesus, Eddie! Why?” 

“I’m sorry! I am not perfect like your Mr London with his fancy car and his smooth-talking ways!” 

Charlotte’s eyes flashed, and both Allie and Eddie knew he was on very thin ice.

“Don’t you dare bring Sidney into this! You don’t know him at all, and he has nothing to do with your mistakes. Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean you can’t be happy for me!”

Eddie looked at Allie for back-up but found that she only shook her head slightly and looked at him with disappointed eyes. When his sisters united against him, he knew he was beaten. 

He lifted his hands up in mock surrender.

“Ok, Ok! I am sorry! Of course, I am happy for you.” 

***

Charlotte slipped into bed beside Sidney an hour later, and he turned, half asleep in the dark to draw her instinctively into his bare chest. She snuggled in beside him under the heavy blankets and rubbed her feet against his legs.

“Jesus, Charlotte your feet are cold!” 

She chuckled.

“Sorry – this house is freezing. It’s impossible to heat it properly, but I have a few ideas about how you can warm me up.”

“Oh really? Well, I was actually sleeping before you woke me with your icy toes.” 

“Are you saying you’re too tired, old man?”

He laughed huskily and pulled her easily on top of him, slipping his hands underneath her pyjama top and pulling it off in one gesture.

“Never.”

***

The next few days leading up to Christmas were more pleasant than Charlotte expected. Eddie, though reserved with Sidney, did not attempt to openly challenge him, but that didn’t mean that things were exactly easy between them. Sidney could admit to himself that he felt a teensy tiny bit threatened; without fully understanding it, he was used to being the most gorgeous and charismatic man in the room, and in Eddie some part of him recognised a challenger to that position. They spent quite a lot of time sizing each other up. Charlotte, Allie and Claudia watched in amusement and with a lot of eye-rolling while they competed silently to chop the most wood and help Ed with various manual tasks on the farm. 

When they went out to shoot woodcock, as was traditional for the Heywoods the day before Christmas Eve, Sidney and Eddie matched each other shot for shot and were only out done by Charlotte who was a crack shot – the best in the family, in fact.* Sidney was greatly surprised and incredibly turned on by this discovery. He marvelled at all the things he had yet to learn about her and watched in admiration as she settled into a moment of alert concentration, and aimed her gun calmly and steadily at her quarry before firing – she never missed. 

On Christmas Eve, Eddie spent some time going over the papers and finances for the farm and house with his father after supper. They were shut up together in the office for at least an hour, and when Eddie emerged, he looked drained and worried. He avoided his sisters and their inevitable questions and slipped quietly out onto the drive to roll a cigarette, but Sidney was already there leaning against a tree on the drive smoking peacefully. They acknowledged each other with a nod and stood together a few minutes in silence.

Sidney saw immediately that Eddie was struggling with something.

“Everything OK, Eddie?”

Eddie shuffled his feet for a moment and then decided. After all, he needed to talk about it with someone, and in this moment, Sidney seemed as good a person as any. 

“Short answer? No, everything’s definitely not OK. I just went through all of the finances for Willingden with papa and it’s a fucking mess. We’re haemorrhaging money: the house is falling apart despite the recent re-plastering and the new roof, which cost a small fortune, and there’s virtually no more land to sell to raise cash. If we carry on like this, in another 10 years or less we’ll be bankrupt, and only selling the house and land to a wealthy Londoner will get us out – and even that might not be enough!" 

Eddie kicked the gravel in frustration and carried on talking.

"For fucks sake! Everyone else gets to turn up for holidays and have everything feel like it was when we were kids, but not me! It’s like nobody wants to notice how the house and farm are falling apart, and I am the one who’s supposed to find the big solution. How’s that even going to happen?” 

He found in Sidney an unexpectedly sympathetic outlet for all his stress and anxiety about his role as heir of Willingden and its growing problems, and the two men bonded over the pressures of having the responsibilities of their family’s future weighing on their shoulders.

Having unloaded years’ worth of repressed frustration, Eddie found himself feeling a thousand pounds lighter and far friendlier towards Sidney. He could even concede that had he not been his sister’s boyfriend, they might have been friends. Sidney was not the slick London guy that he had at first assumed him to be: he was honest, strong, unpretentious, unmaterialistic, capable, sensible, gentle, and most importantly, madly in love with Charlotte in the most selfless way. He didn’t want to contain or change her, and Lottie seemed like the best version of herself with him.

He looked at Sidney out of he corner of his eye and said,

“You know, I’ve never seen Charlotte like this. You’re good for her. John loved her, but he didn’t really appreciate her – he was competitive with her, didn’t really want to see her shine, but at the same time liked how it made him feel to be with someone brilliant and beautiful. She deserves better than that. Allie’s tougher, more forthright sees through to the heart of things doesn’t let people get away with shit; Lotte seems tough, but she overthinks everything and then retreats into her thoughts.”

Sidney smiled and nodded.

“I’ve noticed that, but she’s good for me too Eddie. I am my best self when I am with her.”

“I can see you love her. I don’t want to be a cliché, and she’d be super pissed off at me if she found out, so I am not going to say it… but, fuck it I am going to say it, even though I don't’ think it’s necessary – if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

Sidney laughed. And then said more seriously

“I can’t promise we’ll never have problems but, honestly, I just want to spend the rest of my life with her, and I am not going to do anything to mess that up.”

Eddie looked thoughtful for a moment and then, putting out his cigarette on the gravel, he said.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and go down to the pub for a pint.”

From an upstairs window, Charlotte and Claudia caught sight of the two of them walking down the drive towards the village and smiled at one another.

***

The Willingden Arms was always busier on Christmas Eve than any other night of the year, and Sidney and Eddie made a rather handsome pair. Standing at the bar, they attracted many admiring glances from the women at the pub. 

“Should have known you’d make a great wingman,” said Eddie teasingly, indicating two young women smiling at them at the other end of the room.

Sidney laughed and turned his back to the women.

“Sorry, mate. Those days are over for me. You’re on your own.”

Eddie slapped him on the back.

“Correct answer, Parker.”

They had a pint and then another, and yet another and a few more after that, and soon Eddie was telling Sidney about Serena and how miserable he was and how stupid he’d been. It was 1 am before they got home and both of them were very drunk. 

They stumbled into the house laughing and whispering and bumping into things, but when Sidney undressed and slipped into bed beside Charlotte she sat up and turned on the light. She planned to tease him a bit for coming back pissed, but when she saw Sidney’s face she gasped.

“Sidney oh my god, what happened!!”

She reached out to hold his face and inspect it. His lip was cut, and he had the beginnings of a black eye.

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears.

“Did…did… you and Eddie get into a fight?”

Sidney laughed drunkenly and drew Charlotte into a sloppy bear hug.

“Oh God no, Charlotte, not wit heach other! I like your broferr…” he slurred quietly, closing his eyes and lying back on his pillow.

She was relieved that at least this had nothing to do with Eddie, but the concern was still there.

“Let me go get you some ice for that eye and then you can tell me what happened.” She padded downstairs to the kitchen to find some ice but, by the time she came back up Sidney was fast asleep and snoring.

*** 

The next morning – Christmas morning – Sidney woke with a splitting headache from the hangover and from his blackeye, and all the events of the previous night came rushing back. He and Eddie had stopped at the all night petrol station on the main road to get a packet of cigarettes for the walk home and had found that the young man who was working at the till was being threatened by a drunken lout who didn’t have enough money for the alcohol he wanted to buy. Eddie had intervened and been punched for his trouble; Sidney, who had boxed in his twenties and was still relatively good at it, stepped in immediately and a melée had erupted which ended in a cut lip and a black eye for Sidney and the same but a bit worse for the other guy. Far from being grateful for the help, the young man at the till threw them all out of the station and threatened to call the police. When the lout stumbled off back towards the village, Sidney and Eddie, the worse for wear from drinking and fighting, set off towards home and to bed.

Last night they had found it funny and a bit of a lark, but this morning things felt a lot more serious. Sidney was quite embarrassed as he explained to Charlotte what he remembered of the previous night’s events, but had been relieved to see a fleeting look of amusement cross her face. At least she wasn’t cross with him for acting like such a lad.

“I guess I should be glad that at least you and Eddie are friends now. But it was really stupid, it could have been much worse for you both – what if the guy had had a weapon?" Charlotte shuddered. "Also, how are you going to explain this to the younger boys and to Maria? The boys shouldn’t be encouraged to act like drunken testosterone-pumped lads! Freddy’s only nine, Sidney!”

“I am so sorry Charlotte! What will your parents’ think of me?” He covered his face with his hands and groaned more from the hangover than anything else, but Charlotte, seeing how embarrassed he was leaned over in bed and kissed him as gently as she could. 

“Don’t worry about Mum and Dad, they’ve seen it all with Eddie. It’s ok. We’ll come up with a lie for Freddy and Maria. But I am afraid you’re going to get a lot of teasing from everyone else, and you're going to have to explain it to your own family. And you don’t have any time to sleep off that hangover this morning. Freddy is already downstairs and waiting impatiently for everyone else to get up so he can open his gifts. It’s not fair to keep him waiting.” She smiled and kissed his chest a few times before throwing back the bedclothes, dragging him out of the bed, and handing him a couple of ibuprofen.

Though Freddy had been told a much milder version of the truth he was far too distracted by his Christmas gifts to care, but Charlotte had not exaggerated everyone else's reaction: the teasing that Eddie and Sidney withstood all day was relentless. However, the Heywoods were far from judgmental, on the contrary Sidney’s escapade seemed instead to draw him into the family more firmly than before. It wasn’t just that Eddie had accepted him wholeheartedly, which now he most certainly did, it was also that he had shown himself to be imperfect, human, fallible and not just a rich cityboy who had swooped in to carry Lottie off and away from them – he was one of them now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * no judgement on hunting intended here either way; just a way to mention Charlotte's skills with a gun, as per the TV series.


	39. Sidlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just straight, undiluted life as Sidlotte (one sexy scene).
> 
> Enjoy. 
> 
> I feel really sad about this coming to an end...one more chapter to go!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Nothing was more natural than the life that Sidney and Charlotte built together over the next few months. He knew she didn’t want a fuss when her book came out, but when she rang him from her office to say the first reviews were positive, he asked Susanna to cancel an evening event he was supposed to attend, and turned up instead at her office where she was working late to take her out to dinner. Their books were mixed together, with doubles placed side by side on the bookshelves; she wore his old t-shirts, sweatshirts, and wool socks to bed, around the house, and when she put out the bins; her artwork, postcards, photos and other personal items found their place with surprising ease amongst his things. 

Even if he had wanted to, Sidney could barely remember the time not so long ago when this apartment had been his exclusive and private domain. It felt so right that she was here now, and his home – their home – felt more meaningful for her presence. When he was away for work, as he often was, all he could think about was getting back to her as quickly as possible, of walking through the door to find her working on her computer on the sofa wearing his university rowing sweatshirt, or cooking them dinner in the kitchen, or if he came home really late, of her in bed and waking to kiss him hello no matter how quiet he tried to be when he came in. He thought often about how they might not have met but for a twist of fate and about how their namesake ancestors had married, and somehow it made everything feel preordained.

They both worked hard and occasionally came home exhausted and grumpy; they argued fiercely, but they made up just as intensely, never wanting to go to sleep at odds with each other; they laughed a lot; made love almost every night they were together; visited and hosted and merged their friends and family until neither could tell where one’s life ended and the other’s began. 

In March, for Sidney’s 37th birthday, Charlotte booked two tickets to Rome, and they spent four days there showing each other their favourite parts of the city. They walked all though all the neighbourhoods and ate in a different restaurant for every meal; they browsed through shops and looked at ruins and churches and gardens and museums; they held hands and kissed on street corners and made love in a bedroom that had views onto the Piazza Navona. Sidney still had many friends and connections in Rome and spoke near perfect Italian, and he showed Charlotte a side to the city that she hadn’t seen as a student. Likewise, Charlotte took Sidney to all her favourite early Christian and medieval churches, a topic she had studied on her Erasmus year, and explained all the fresco fragments and mosaics to him with enthusiasm and a depth of knowledge that was impressive, considering it was not her primary field of expertise. 

As he leaned in an archway and watched her standing in the dappled sunlight of the cloister garden of Santi Quattro Coronati, chatting confidently in Italian with the Augustinian nun who had shown them around, Sidney knew for certain that he was going to ask her to marry him. Not this second maybe, but this year some time – when he found the right moment. In the darkness of the night or the dim light of early morning they often lay together naked and tangled in the bedclothes, their bodies entwined, talking about everything in their past and in their future. They shared their deepest pain and longings, and talked about how many kids they wanted to have one day, what sort of parents they wanted to be, how they felt about religion and relationships and money and everything else in between. He knew they didn’t need a piece of paper to solidify their commitment to one another – they were already, even this early into the relationship, a family – but he also knew he wanted to make a public declaration of his love and commitment to her. He just wasn’t sure how she felt about it: she was younger than him after all, but he hoped that if it was too early for her and she wasn’t ready to take that step now, that she soon would be ready. He would wait as long as she needed him to, forever if necessary.

***

Esther and Babington got married in April in Islington town hall. Esther was already four months pregnant and glowing with contentment and love. It was a very small and impromptu event attended by only their nearest and dearest friends and family. Charlotte and Sidney were their witnesses, and an intimate and beautiful dinner was held afterwards, where Sidney and Crowe made a join best man speech that brought the house down, followed by a poem read by Tacita and assisted by Josie. Afterwards Georgie convinced some of them to go clubbing in Shoreditch and though Babbers and Esther went home fairly early to enjoy their first night together as a married couple and were soon followed by Susan and Alice and a few others, Crowe lasted until he found someone to come home with him. By 2 am and their second club, Otis and Sidney were the last ones in their group standing. The two men danced a bit, but mostly they talked, drank, laughed and stood by the bar watching as Charlotte and Georgie did round after round of tequila shots, danced expertly, and sang wildly to Little Simz, Ashnikko and others they had never heard of. At 3:30 when Georgie seemed on the cusp of suggesting another club, but Charlotte was only standing through the support of Sidney’s arm, he stepped in. 

“Georgie, no. I really think we need to go home now.”

“Oh god, Sidney just because you’re old doesn't mean Charlotte can’t have fun. Please can Sidlotte stay out to play a little bit longer?” She begged cutely.

“No one here is as young as you Georgie!” Intervened Otis laughing. “And we all have to work on Monday, not just swan about on a glorified second gap year.”

“I am still a student!” said Georgie pouting.

“Not officially until you start your PhD in September, until then you’re a slacker!” Otis kissed her affectionately and threw his arm around her shoulder. 

“Come on, please take your old man home – my clubbing days are well ovah!”

Georgie looked up at Otis lovingly and let him lead her out, and they were closely followed by Sidney and Charlotte who were moving far more slowly

“Sidney!” said Charlotte plaintively. “I had way too much to drink. Georgie is a bad influence! I don’t even think I can walk.”

Sidney laughed and lifted her up in his arms easily.

“No problem, my love. I shall carry you home if need be.”

In fact, there was no need to carry her: they got a taxi easily. Once they got home Sidney patiently held Charlotte’s hair back while she vomited all the tequila out and then put her in bed and placed a glass of water on her bedside table. The next morning he brought her a coffee and a few extra strength ibuprofen, and though he laughed when she said she would never again trust a 24-year-old who told her a fourth tequila shot would lessen her hangover, he even refrained from making fun of her – too much.

***

For Charlotte the moment she knew she wanted to marry Sidney came a few months later. Although she had known right from the start that Sidney was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, to have children with, and grow old with, intellectually she had conflicting feelings about marriage, and it wasn’t something she had ever thought was particularly necessary. He had come a long way – had entirely upended his life to accommodate her, in fact – and she was 100 per cent secure in his commitment to her despite his complicated past and the stab of jealousy that she still felt when they ran into women he’d slept with. It was not an infrequent occurrence that they might meet a woman at a party or restaurant or even in the street, and Sidney would be forced to stop and briefly exchange introductions and pleasantries. Afterwards their conversations went something like this:

Charlotte: “That one too?”

Sidney (sheepish and bit embarrassed): “Yep.”

Through therapy, he had got better at putting words to all of the uncomfortable emotions he was having, and though his newfound vulnerability often made him quite jealous of the other men she was friendly with or interacted with at work and at conferences, he trusted her completely and had learned to let go and not try to control things.

They were relaxing at home one rainy Sunday; Charlotte had taken a chance and suggested that they spend as much time as possible clearing out the barn at Whytcliffe during the summer and think about slowly turning it into a house. 

“Tell me if I am being too presumptuous, Sidney. That might not be your plan for it anymore … you might have other ideas. It’s your place…I don’t want to overstep.”

Sidney was afraid to look at her, afraid that she would see the significance of her suggestion for him and that he would give himself away right then and prematurely ask her to marry him and have his babies so that they could turn that barn into a family home. He said as casually as he could, before turning back to the book he was reading,

“It’s our place, Lotte. Yours and mine. I don’t want to live there with anyone but you.”

Charlotte’s heart thrilled; her hand reached out to find his and squeeze it. She laid her head on his shoulder, smiling to herself as he turned to kiss her forehead, happy for the moment to leave it at those few simple but significant words. She knew in that moment that she wanted to join her life to his officially and in front of everyone they knew.

***

They spent every spare moment that summer at their farm on Whytcliffe or swimming in the sea in “their” cove, either alone or with Jenny, Alicia and Henry, who they sometimes watched for Tom and Mary. The construction work on the WBP project was already well underway, but the first step of their own far more modest project was only just beginning to take shape. Allie had designed a simple barn conversion for them that tread that very fine line between retaining the charm of the original structure and modernising and extending it just enough to be habitable. Its main focus was a wall of picture windows that would take full advantage of the views across the meadows towards the sea. Her elegant ideas had been given to a structural engineer in Brighton who was a friend of Eddie’s, and building work was to start in the autumn.

Before any work could start, however, the barn needed clearing. One hot day at the end of August, Sidney and Charlotte dragged more than fifty years’ worth of debris and junk into the yard. By the late afternoon they had got almost everything out of the barn. Charlotte had never been so exhausted. She helped out occasionally on the farm in Willingden, but truthfully her father never expected her and Allie to do as much as the boys, and they often just larked about or got in the way while Eddie, Luke and now Francis did all the heavy lifting. Today she was wearing dungarees with a tank top underneath. There were dust and cobwebs in her hair, her hands were calloused and scratched, and her arms and chest and probably also her face were covered in dirt and grease smears; her tank was drenched with sweat and she had never felt so disgusting and unattractive in her life. She looked over at Sidney who had abandoned his t-shirt some time ago and was focused on shovelling a pile of old building rubble into the skip. Though he was also dirty and sweaty, she found this man-skills version of him incredibly sexy: all broad shoulders and arms; glistening, flexing muscles and tanned skin; his hair tousled and wet with sweat and his face frowning in concentration. She stopped to admire him for a bit and then laughed. He stopped what he was doing to look up at her.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’d always thought of you as the metrosexual type, and now here I am – self-professed country girl – a horrible, disgusting, sweaty mess, barely keeping it together, while you are managing to look like a sexy god of hard graft!”

He tilted his head and smiled that crooked grin that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. 

“Metrosexual, huh?”

She laughed.  
He threw down his shovel and gloves and wiped his forehead with his arm and walked towards her.

“Sexy, huh?”

“Hmm. Definitely sexy. But you mustn’t really be working hard enough if you can still look that good.”

“Oh really?” He seemed amused.

He came closer until they were almost face to face. She smiled, waiting for him to banter with her, but instead he picked her up, flung her over his shoulder and walked towards the outdoor shower on the secluded side of the granary facing the meadows.

“I think we both need a shower.”

“Cold or hot, Sidney?” she asked, laughing hysterically.

“Hot, definitely hot.” He growled.

He put her down in front of the outdoor shower and began undressing them. They kicked off their trainers. His shorts and boxers were quickly removed and after a bit of laughing and struggling with the hooks of her dungaree straps, it too was kicked aside onto the grass, swiftly followed by her vest and bra which he tore off and flung behind him. Though his hands seemed to be everywhere, Sidney’s eyes looked deep into hers as he pushed her underpants down her hips and let them drop to the ground for her to step out of. He grabbed her ass and pulled her roughly towards him and she could see and feel how hard and ready for her he was. He smoothed his palms over her bum and lifted her up easily towards him. Their kisses were messy and desperate, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him carry her into the roofless wooden cubicle with a door that he had rigged up with a shower head and hot water tank many years ago.  
Sidney turned on the water and waited until it ran warm before he put Charlotte under it and let her stand. He stepped into the stream of water with her, bending to kiss and lick the rivers that were running over and between her breasts and down her stomach. Charlotte ran her hands admiringly over his chest and down his torso and slid suddenly to her knees, to take him in her mouth.

“Oh Fuck, Charlotte!” he shouted in surprise, grabbing the walls of the shower as the exquisite pleasure of her tongue and mouth working on him took over. She hummed in satisfaction and continued the slow and steady rhythm, moving up and down on him, her hands resting on his thighs or grabbing his ass to pull him closer. The salt of his sweat and semen tasted like heaven to her and she felt him coming close and moved faster. Though he was groaning loudly in contentment, Sidney managed to grab her hair and pull her face up to look at him. She smiled and stood, and with one gesture, he swept the assorted bottles and soaps off the low, sturdy shelf and lifted Charlotte easily to sit on its edge. Holding her hips firmly he pushed into her, groaning her name. His thrusts were maddeningly slow and steady at first and his thumbs brushed against her nipples teasing them into red and swollen buds with his fingers and his tongue as she arched towards him under the streaming hot water. He could feel himself starting to lose control. Bracing himself with one hand against the wall and the other on her waist, he slammed into her over and over again increasingly frantic to meet her in his movements. Even after a year together, every time was as exciting as the first, and though they were now familiar with each other’s bodies and desires, their lovemaking was still as mind-blowing as ever, possibly even more so. Charlotte could feel herself coming, but she wanted to bring him with her. She gripped the top of the wall that shook each time Sidney slammed into her and locked her legs tightly around him, moaning loudly every time he hit that spot deep inside her that unlocked a delirium of pleasure. She sought and found his lips and kissed him hard, and they pressed their foreheads together, sharing their breath with each of his thrusts, watching for the moment in the other when sensuality sustained dissolves into ecstasy. 

“Charlotte,” he whispered in wonder. “I love you so much.”

“I love you.” She whispered back, kissing his ear and pulling him closer to press her body against his.

With a roar of release they tipped over the edge together and their cries echoed through the otherwise quiet farmyard. Afterwards they soaped and washed each other’s bodies and hair and scurried naked and giggling into their little house to dry off and lie quietly in bed for the rest of the evening recovering from their day of hard work. 

They talked for a while about the barn and their plans for it, arguing a bit about how far into an open plan design they wanted to go and whether converting the hayloft was practical or a bit cheesy design-wise. Charlotte lay her head on Sidney’s chest and he stroked her hair gently, setting out his argument against a loft and for an extension around a kind of courtyard that would maximize the views and the space without changing the structure of the building. 

She was silent while he talked, and he suddenly wondered if now while they were so peaceful together was the right time to ask her. He decided to go for it, and in a voice that was low and nervous said,

“I woke up this early morning and saw you there sleeping, and all I could think was how I wanted it to be this way forever. The two of us forever. I know it’s only been a year, but I think I may have loved you from the first moment I saw you, and sometimes you just know from the very beginning that you’re meant to be together. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Charlotte – will you marry me?” 

There was no reply, and for a moment Sidney felt a surge of panic. Maybe she was thinking about how to let him down easy? But then he realised that she was fast asleep. She was generally a deep sleeper and had probably drifted off while he had been monologizing about the hayloft. 

Chuckled at himself for an idiot, he moved to gently shift her so that her head was nestled at his side and in the crook of his arm. He kissed her sleeping lips softly, and she murmured something indistinct while throwing her arm across his chest. Sidney picked up the LRB on his bedside table and put on his glasses to read, every so often stroking her bare shoulder to remind himself of her presence.

The next day was Sunday and they were invited to lunch with Tom and Mary and the kids. They decided to walk rather than drive in and were greeted loudly by three excited children when they arrived. The girls threw themselves at Sidney and he carried them into the kitchen, while little Henry, who had taken a particular liking to Charlotte since his accident, took her hand and shyly brought her to inspect his latest Lego creation. He was a quiet little boy, but perceptive and he took great pride in showing Charlotte all the detailed work and care that had gone into his Lego building. They talked about it quietly for a while until Sidney came in to find them and bring them to the table to eat.

“Can I see what you’ve made too, Henry?” He asked lying down on the ground beside them and smiling.

“Of course,” Henry said seriously. “But Aunt Charlotte is an arshifescture expert, so she understands it.”

None of the children had ever called Charlotte “aunt” before, and she and Sidney both thrilled secretly at the idea of making that official. After a few more minutes of chat they got up, Henry stuffed his pockets full of Lego pieces and ran off to eat. Charlotte and Sidney trailed behind, and Sidney took the opportunity to catch her hand and bring it wordlessly to his lips. 

Lunch with Mary and Tom was lovely. They had seen each other in London a few months ago and this summer at the Investors’ weekend, the cricket match, and the regatta but there had been little time to chat, and now there was so much to catch up on – so much had changed. 

First, Lady Denham had passed away unexpectedly in February and after the funeral it had emerged that she had left the large part of her assets invested in the Denham Trust, and thus control of the hotel, to Esther. The rest of her cash and liquid assets, which amounted to a couple million but were nowhere near the value of her interest in the Trust, had been left to Edward who served his suspended sentence, paid his fine and then left immediately for the British Virgin Islands with Clara Brereton, and with no plan of ever returning. 

A lot had changed for the Parkers as well. Arthur’s new partner, Samuel McCarthey was an up-and-coming young landscape architect who was working on the gardens for the Whytcliffe project. They split their time between Arthur’s flat in London and Sam’s idyllic rented cottage on a large historic estate in Hampshire where he had his studio and gardens. Arthur's life had settled into an easy domesticity and it seemed to suit him – he worked on his illustrations far more and partied far less. 

Diana had moved permanently to Umbria where she was now helping her boyfriend and former Yoga teacher, Misha Dumbarton, to run retreats and Ayurvedic courses. Her life in Italy with Misha seemed to help her find the balance, both literally and figuratively, that she had always sought. 

Tom and Mary also seemed better than ever. Sidney had started to set firmer boundaries with Tom and once he realised that he could no longer call on his younger brother to realise virtually every hairbrained scheme that popped into his head at 3 am, Tom began to scale back on his ambitions significantly and found with some surprise that he was actually happier for it and had more time for his family. Mary was delighted, of course. With Tom more available to be with the children she was able to initiate all the new print workshops and projects that she had put on the backburner for years.

Mary and Charlotte took the kids to get an ice cream at the seaside, and the brothers stayed behind to clear up after lunch. Tom looked over at his brother slyly.

“So, when are you going to ask her?”

Sidney smiled.

“I already did last night, but she was sleeping!” 

Tom howled. 

“Think of it as a dry run, but make sure she’s fully awake the next time, you fool!”

“I don’t know if she expects me to hire an airplane to write it across the sky, or a mini-break in Paris, or I don’t know – that I hide it in a seashell or something and create a treasure hunt. Or maybe she’d hate all of that as much as I would, but the more I think about the different options the more nervous I get. It’s only been a year, Tom! Is this insane? Is she going to think I’ve lost my mind? It’s possible she doesn’t even believe in the institution of marriage – it being a patriarchal construct to contain and control women and all that. I just want her to know that there’s never going to be anyone else for me – she’s everything to me.”

Tom laughed, it warmed him to see his brother, who had been so controlled and unemotional for so long, like this. 

“Don’t spin your wheels, Sid. She can hate the institution of marriage as a historical concept and still want to marry you.”

“What did you do with Mary?”

“It doesn’t sound terribly romantic when I say it out loud, but it was. I asked her at one of Tommy Peterson’s weekend parties in Weymouth. We walked down to the seaside, and it just seemed natural. It was like I couldn’t stop the words from coming. Anyhow, if you don’t get a move on, Charlotte might ask you first and you’ll be saved the stress.”

“She probably would do. Honestly, I would like that – I’d be more certain of how it would all end. No question that I’d accept her!”

“I don’t think you have to worry about her answer, Sid. Anyone can see how much she loves you.” 

Sidney looked sceptical but he was grateful for his brother’s reassurance.

***

An hour later he and Charlotte left Trafalgar House to walk home. It was windy, but the evening was clear and the sky was promising a spectacular sunset, so they decided to take the longer route over the clifftops to enjoy it. They held hands and walked in comfortable silence, enjoying the slight tinge of autumn that was in the evening air and that they were prepared for with thick jumpers. They would be returning to London and all its accompanying stresses in a few days and this beautiful second summer together was coming to an end. Pausing for a moment at the top of the cliffs where the path forked to lead them inland towards Whytcliffe, Charlotte looked out to the sea and the sky, marvelling at how much had changed for her in just a year.

“Happy?” 

Sidney murmured wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her ear.  
She leaned back into him and nodded.

“Mmmhmm. So happy.”

He let go and turned her around gently to look at him, and though he was a bit nervous, the words came as naturally as breathing.

“Marry me, Charlotte.”

Her eyes widened for a second as she processed what he had just said, and then she looked up into his nervous face and a bright smiled spread slowly across her lips.

“Of course.”


	40. Happy Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter (sob!), but I have decided there will be an epilogue to tie up all loose ends and story lines and provide a few of my notes, and after that I am well and truly finished – unless inspiration strikes again.
> 
> I hope this gives you a bit more of the Sidlotte that you want. It's pretty self-evident.

Their news was met with jubilation, though not much surprise, from all their friends and family, and a country wedding with a service in Willingden church – as a nod to the first Charlotte Heywood and Sidney Parker – with a reception on the lawns of Willingden house afterwards , was planned. Neither had much time to devote to planning an elaborate wedding so they hoped to keep it fairly simple, but meaningful.

In the meantime, Ava Marigold Catherine Denham Babington was born at the beginning of September and was christened a month later. Sidney and Augusta, Babber’s sister, were already Tacita’s godparents, but Charlotte and Crowe had been asked to be godparents to Babington and Esther's daughter. Charlotte was truly touched. Though she liked children and babies, and generally thought that they were funny, curious little creatures, her interest had never yet approached the levels of ecstatic, soppy, maternal joy that people always seemed to expect from women. She tended to approach them and speak to them as little people, which, to be fair, most children seemed to prefer. 

After the church service and lunch, everyone returned to Esther and George’s house on Duncan Terrace, and Esther, desperate for the loo and unable to find Babington anywhere, placed Ava in Charlotte’s arms and disappeared. Charlotte froze; she could count on two fingers the number of times she had held a newborn baby in her arms, and all she could remember was something about not letting the head flop around. She experienced a few minutes of sheer terror before pulling it together and manoeuvring her way gingerly through the crowded room towards a chair in the corner. 

Grateful at least that she seemed to be sleeping soundly, Charlotte determined to sit as still as possible and wait patiently for Esther to return, but when she felt the baby wriggling in her arms and looked down into Ava’s darling little scrunched up face and her unfocused milky eyes, and felt her fingers curl around her own little finger, she felt something unusual stir in her. 

“Oh hello, Ava!” She heard herself murmur quietly. This tentative start was quickly followed by a lot of smiles, gentle cooing, and a stream of baby talk nonsense that Charlotte had never thought she would ever possibly in a million years utter, but somehow in this moment it seemed as natural as breathing.

Esther, enjoying a break from holding and nursing the baby, which seemed to be all she had done for the last six weeks, was stood on the other side of the room with Babington and Sidney. All three seemed to notice Charlotte at the same time; Esther stole a glance at Sidney and smiled. He was utterly transfixed by her, and the look in his eyes, though hard to define, was softer than she had ever seen in all the years she had known him.

George put his arm around Esther and laughed.

“You’re in for it soon, Parker! And those are words I never thought I’d say.”

Sidney blushed and smiled good-naturedly, but he made no attempt to deny it.

***

Charlotte turned 30 in the middle of October and for her birthday Sidney and Allie organised a surprise party at one of her favourite bars in Dalston. Sidney was grateful for Allie’s help because there were so many of Charlotte’s friends that he still didn’t know. He had compiled a list of people he either knew already or had heard Charlotte speak of and gave it to Allie to check. He nodded as she made a few additions of names that he had forgotten, but felt a curious need for a cigarette when Allie chuckled mysteriously to herself and slashed four male names off the list in quick succession. 

Allie had recently moved to London to take up her first job as a junior architect at a big architecture firm. She had a flat share in Hackney Downs with a few other uni friends, and she and Charlotte were delighted to be in such close proximity to each other for the first time in ten years. Though her job was demanding, and she already had a busy social life, Allie met Charlotte most Sunday mornings for a yoga class in Broadway market and a coffee and catch up afterwards. Sidney liked Allie a lot; he liked the way she admired and looked up to Charlotte, but also grounded her in reality and made her laugh when she got too serious or retreated into her own thoughts. He could see how close they were and how they complemented one another. 

On the night of the party, which was the Saturday after her actual birthday, Sidney found himself trying to convince Charlotte to come out with him. She had had a hard week at work and wanted to stay home; she had even tried to seduce him into bed and was confused and immediately suspicious when he – with some difficulty it must be admitted – managed to tear himself away from her fingers which had already started the process of undressing him. 

“What’s going on Sidney?” she said frowning.

He laughed self-consciously, knowing that she could see right through him.

“Nothing! Come on – we had a plan and I made a reservation so you can’t change it now!”

“That’s never bothered you before. What have you done?”

Sidney ran his hands through his hair. She knew immediately when he was hiding something or holding back and now it made him nervous.

“Charlotte!! Stop it, let’s just go please! There will be plenty of time for this tonight.”

Charlotte frowned at him and then with a slight inkling of what he might have planned, she got dressed. Taking her cue from his casual shirt, jeans and trainers, she left her jeans on but changed into a nicer blouse and blazer, fluffed her already wild hair a bit more and put on some red lipstick. 

Though she had already pieced together what was likely going on, Charlotte managed to act completely surprised when they came into the bar and found all of her friends, colleagues, and Allie, Eddie and Luke there to wish her happy birthday. It was a fabulous birthday party. She introduced Georgie and Otis to her siblings and all her university friends and was delighted that Esther and Babington had also been able to make it out, even with a newborn at home. Arthur was there too with Samuel, and even Susan came by for 30 minutes to wish her a happy birthday. Sidney had also invited Ben DuPre, whom Charlotte was delighted to see again, and she introduced him to Allie in the not so subtle hope that they might hit it off. In fact, they did seem to get on very well, and as Charlotte left them chatting animatedly about work, she turned to catch Sidney’s eye across the room and give him a triumphant look. He rolled his eyes at her blatant matchmaking, but went willingly when Charlotte dragged him to a secluded corner near the loo for a quick snog. 

“Thank you for this. It’s been really nice.” She whispered afterwards.

“Of course. Couldn’t have done it without Allie though.”

“I’ll have to start thinking about what to do for your 40th!”

She said laughingly

“Steady on! A few years to go still!” he cried, slightly horrified.

As was to be expected, Georgie’s outsized charisma and Arthur’s enthusiasm soon managed to move the entire party to a nearby club for dancing, but Charlotte was not about to be wheedled into doing tequila shots again, and she contented herself with feeling mildly warm and tipsy all night while nursing her fourth G&T. 

More disturbing to Charlotte, however, was that although she had left her sister chatting safely with Ben earlier, Allie seemed now to have taken quite a fancy to Francis Crowe, whom she had met for the first time that night. Charlotte liked Crowe, and she could also see the attraction for Allie. Though he wasn’t as conventionally handsome as Sidney or Babington, Crowe had a louche charm and world-weary charisma about him which never failed to attract women. Tonight for instance, in a rumpled white shirt that was open one button too far, exposing a lot of black chest hair; a pair of trim black jeans, also elegantly rumpled; brown suede desert boots; and a blazer, he managed to convey an air of careless grace that suited his tall lanky body. That, combined with his slightly too long hair, which he kept combing out of his eyes with his hands, and she understood why her sister found him fascinating. He had the added attraction of being very, very funny, charming and sophisticated, and also extremely intelligent and informed, as was no surprise for a man who had been a war correspondent for BBC news for several years. But there could be no doubt that he also had major issues! For one thing, the trauma of seven years reporting from Syria during the worst fighting of the war had left him slightly dependant on alcohol, though Charlotte had to admit he had cut back a lot over the past 10 months. For another, he didn’t seem to have any interest in a permanent relationship of any sort with anyone other than Babbers and Sidney. They were his real family.

He had joined George and Sidney’s house at school in year 7 after having been kicked out of his two previous boarding schools for bad behaviour. He always said that he only lasted there because once he met George and Sidney he didn't want to leave and was on best behaviour. His family was extremely wealthy, but he had almost no contact with his parents or his older brother, who he said were awful, narrow-minded, bullies. After school he cut all financial and emotional ties with them and subsidised his expenses at Oxford through freelance writing, a job pulling pints at the pub, and the generosity of his two best friends. All this simply meant that Crowe was a world unto himself; the rare man who was almost completely an island.

“Sidney, have you noticed that Crowe and Allie are flirting a lot?”

Sidney had noticed, and was sure that Charlotte would not be keen, but he also knew Crowe better than anyone – underneath it all he was a good guy and an extremely loyal friend, just a bit cynical, which wasn’t surprising after everything he’d been through.

“Um yeah.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Sidney shrugged.

“I think my opinion doesn't matter. They’re both adults, Lotte.”

Charlotte frowned.

“You know I like Crowe, but even you have to admit that he’s a bit fucked up.”

“True.” 

“So, do you think we should just let Allie get involved with him?”

Sidney laughed and put his arm around Charlotte reassuringly.

“I don’t think it’s up to us! You can warn her if you like, but I think that Allie can handle herself just fine, and most likely she can handle Crowe just fine. I imagine that neither are looking for anything particularly permanent.”

“Still…it could be awkward later.”

“Again, I imagine that they have both considered that aspect. If they can handle it, I don’t know why it would be a problem for us.”

Charlotte was unconvinced and thought that Sidney was being a bit too relaxed about it. She took the first opportunity to warn Allie that Crowe was delightful and charming, but a bit messed up and not the person to get entangled with.

Allie laughed.

“You think I can’t see that Lottie? I am not looking for a boyfriend. I just think it might be fun to kiss someone named Crowe tonight.”

Charlotte knew that “kiss” was Allie’s shorthand for “have sex with” and she threw up her hands in despair.

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you! And make sure you use a condom – he’s been around!”

Allie laughed and waved her sister away. Shortly afterwards she and Crowe left together. And not long after that even Georgie was able to be convinced that it was time to go home, but not without Otis hoisting her over his shoulder and carrying her out to prevent her from ordering another round for the entire bar.

***

Almost nineteen months later, after a lot of juggling of schedules, Charlotte and Sidney’s wedding day finally arrived. Despite all the contingency plans made for rain, it was clear and sunny. The meadows were full of wildflowers, the woods full of bluebells, and the gentle periodic bleating of sheep could be heard in every corner. They had dispensed with the tradition of spending the night before their wedding apart, and instead Charlotte woke up in the blue room in her parents’ house just as she wanted to, with the familiar sound of Sidney’s breathing beside her and the weight of his arm curled around her waist. He left after an early breakfast, but not before kissing her soundly in the hallway and whispering a few secret words in her ear that made her smile and tear up a little bit. By 8 am he was back at the inn in the neighbouring town where his family and loads of the other guests were staying. 

Charlotte’s dress was long and simple: a bias-cut white satin silk that was high in the front but dipped to a deep v down her back. She wore the first Charlotte Parker’s earrings and her hair was in a simple low bun at the nape of her neck. Her bouquet was a mix of early fragrant sweetpeas from her mother’s garden and wildflowers collected from the meadows by Allie and Maria that morning. 

For the rest of her life Charlotte remembered everything from the church service clearly: the look in Sidney’s eye as she walked towards him; the emotion when they said their vows and slipped the simple gold bands on each other’s fingers smiling at each other; Georgie’s beautiful, unrushed reading of one of her favourite poems – “Some Trees” by John Ashbery; and the moment when they emerged from the church blinking in the midday sun to kiss under a shower of rose petals and ecofriendly confetti while their friends and family cheered and whistled. 

The rest of the day and night was a bit of a blur of greetings, hand shaking, kisses, small talk and dancing, however. Drinks were held on the lawn of Willingden house, and dinner and dancing took place afterwards in the marquee that had been erected out back. During dinner, Sidney's best man, Tom, made an unexpectedly selfless and loving speech about his brother in which he remarked on their childhood and their parents and ended in thanking Sidney on behalf of himself, Arthur and Diana for every one of his acts of love and care for them all, even those that seemed to have gone unnoticed; her parents also made a delightful joint speech about Charlotte, and about Sidney and Eddie’s adventure at Christmas; and Allie delivered an affectionate, whip smart, tribute and toast to her new brother and big sister that had everyone simultaneously crying and howling. As she raised her glass at the very end, she caught Crowe’s eye, and he smiled broadly at her in admiration.

They had met up five or six more times since the night of Charlotte’s birthday party, and each time had been as great as the first, but they agreed to keep it casual and not at all exclusive. That said, though he had no idea what Alison had been up to, unusually for him, Crowe had actually not slept with anyone else since meeting her. This was partially because he was already started the process of changing his life, and was working harder at dealing with his demons and his PTSD with the councillor that had been suggested by his employer. 

Tonight, seeing his two best friends and old wingmen so completely and utterly happy and eager to enter the more settled and domestic phase of their lives, Crowe felt himself suddenly wondering if he might someday (though not today) want more in his life too? And possibly even with someone like this firecracker Heywood girl? He really liked Charlotte and was glad his friend had found such happiness, but her sister was definitely more his speed – that is, she was far more cheeky, spontaneous, wild and brutally forthright. Before Crowe could even process some of these thoughts, however, Allie appeared and slipped into the chair beside him after dinner. She pulled off the wildflower crown she had worn as Charlotte’s maid of honour and flung it carelessly onto the table. Reaching up to tousle her bobbed hair and fringe, she fixed him with her dark brown eyes. 

“Want to dance, Crowe?”

A slow, rare smile spread across his face and reached all the way up to the corners of his eyes. He took her hand silently and led her to the dance floor, slipping his hand around her waist and pulling her firmly into his arms.

***

Charlotte and Sidney collapsed into bed together at around 4 am, too tired to do anything other than undress and lie in each other’s arms, talking sleepily about everything that had happened that day. 

“I can’t believe no one noticed that I didn’t have a drink all night!” she murmured. “I thought for sure that Allie or Georgie would notice that I didn’t touch my wine.”

Sidney squeezed her even closer to him, burying his face in her hair.

“I like that it’s still our secret.” He whispered contentedly. “Just the three of us.”


	41. Epilogue - Ten Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the promised Epilogue. I don't think it will ever be fully satisfying, but we have to find an end somehow. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who stuck with this story, championed it, and commented on it here and elsewhere. It has been an unexpected joy to see this through to the end and to interact with all of you here. 
> 
> Please do comment and/or fire away with any questions you may have for me.

Sidney woke to the feel of Charlotte’s fingers combing gently through the hair on his chest. These were signals he knew well, and he shook himself awake. He was ready for her immediately. Shifting quickly in their bed he pulled her firmly to him, his hand plunging down her pyjama bottoms to grab her still pert ass. They had to be quick and quiet he knew. There was only a small window of time for the morning activities they were warming up to, and experience had taught them that they needed to take every single opportunity as it arose. 

“What time is it? Do you think they’re awake?” Charlotte whispered as her hand moved into his shorts.

“I haven’t heard anything yet.” He smiled into her hair and reached for her lips with his own. Even after ten years this never got old, the desire he felt for her was unchanged and just as potent. They didn’t shag everyday anymore, and certainly not 2 or 3 times a day as they had for the first few years before kids, because two little boys, two full time jobs, and two exhausted older bodies can’t always make that work. They knew each other too well, too thoroughly to need that constant intimacy; that hungry insatiable need to merge as often as possible with someone you’ve just fallen in love with was replaced by a love that was far deeper and immutable. Most of their arguments were still resolved with sex though – mind-blowing sex, that was still great after all these years. 

Their hands moved over each other's bodies desperately, fiercely, but then they heard the unmistakable sound of small feet.

“Mama?!” a child’s voice bellowed, followed by the uneven sound of short legs climbing the staircase.

Charlotte groaned in Sidney’s mouth.

“Fuuuck! here comes number one.”

“Mama!? Papa??”

Sidney laughed.

“And number two! Why didn’t we put a lock on our door again?”

There was no time to respond, they moved apart and waited for the onslaught. Two small boys threw open the door shouting, and they charged towards the bed, jostling and pushing each other for the prime position in between their parents.

Ten years and two boys aged 9 and 6 had changed many things for Sidney and Charlotte. They were always tired; frequently argued; and were occasionally bored; but underneath it all, they were very happy – every day. Sometimes out of sheer familiarity and exhaustion Charlotte would think, never seriously, about what it would be like to be with someone else – to experience the exhilaration of new love again. But then she would see Sidney with their kids, or doing something mundane, and she would feel that jolt of attraction and know how deep her love for him was and always would be. No one could ever touch her like he did – if anything, what she really wanted was to experience it all over again with him. 

But their lives were now full of responsibilities and concerns that they could never have imagined a decade earlier. It sometimes felt that they had woken up in an alternate universe that revolved entirely around Ocado orders*, swimming lessons, music class, junior cricket matches, school runs, and unbelievably annoying parent WhatsApp groups. The pressure and demands of Sidney and Charlotte’s respective careers had grown and progressed over the years, but they still managed to share the mental load as equally as possible, with Sidney, despite his demanding schedule, standing out at their kids schools for being one of the only men to volunteer for PTA events and to show up regularly on the school run. He also stood out for being incredibly gorgeous, and quite a few of the mothers in the school yard couldn't help but sneak a peek at him when he dropped the kids off in his running shorts and tight t-shirt.

After the birth of their first son, they had moved out of Sidney’s apartment into a 4-bedroom fixer-upper in nearby Dalston that Ben DuPre had turned into the kind of London house that won architecture awards and was featured on Pinterest boards. Most holidays and weekends were spent in Sanditon or at their barn at Whytcliffe, which they had transformed into a serene, minimalist, country retreat inspired by a month-long visit to Japan for Sidney's work before their marriage. The purity and silence of the space they had meticulously planned together, was now shattered by their two wild-dog children who had no compunction about jumping or wrestling on the carefully selected mid-century modern furniture or tearing through the house with dirty boots, sticks and other “treasures” found in the wildflower meadows outside the wall of picture windows Allie had designed. Charlotte and Sidney loved that the kids could be quite feral at Whytcliffe, however, and they often left them to their own devices, only calling them back to the house for meals. 

***

Otis and Georgiana were together for five years while Georgiana did her PhD in London. They loved each other intensely and truly, but once she finished her PhD Georgie felt she had to go back to Nigeria to reconnect with her family and to oversee some aspects of her family fortune and her parents’ art foundation. Sidney and Charlotte encouraged her to take over the reigns of the latter, but in order to do that everyone knew she needed to be on the ground in Lagos. Otis was a partner at WBP by that time and although they tried a long-distance relationship, after a while they had to admit that it just wasn’t working. Though Georgie planned to move back to London rather than give up the love of her life, Otis knew he couldn’t let her do that. He made the heart-breaking decision to let her go. Through tears, he tried to explain that at 27 she still had a lot of life to live and needed to forge her own path without him. He couldn’t let her compromise her dreams to keep their relationship alive. 

She was very angry with him at first. Otis had been her first real love and she couldn’t understand why he would choose to let her go, but she eventually accepted it and moved to Nigeria to take over her parents’ collection and business concerns, throwing herself into her new life there and dating various “appropriate” men from good Lagos families that her aunties set her up with. Although Sidney and Charlotte and their kids (one of whom was her godson) visited Georgie regularly and stayed with her on the Adeyemi family compound for weeks on end, she found that she generally avoided returning to London – the thought of seeing Otis was just too painful. 

When Georgie turned thirty, she was offered a position as senior curator at the Hayward Gallery. She moved back to London, but she knew that she couldn’t avoid Otis forever and it was better to get it over with, like pulling off a plaster. A few weeks later when she finally did see him across the room at an opening at the Tate, she knew without a doubt and with a rush of fear that her feelings for him were still there and they were still strong. Catching her eye, his own were full of emotion, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment before moving towards her through the crowd to kiss her gently on the cheek. It was as if no time had passed.

In another two years they were married, to great jubilation among their friends and family. Within five years they had a daughter and a young son, and divided their time between London and Lagos. Georgie couldn’t have been happier, more in love, or more content. She was eventually appointed director of the Tate art museums and galleries, and together Georgie and Otis soon became one of the art world’s most feted power couples.

***

Eddie eventually moved back to Willingden with his new girlfriend and their daughter – whom he named Charlotte – and with Sidney’s help he began to redevelop and diversify the farm. The part of the property that was nearest the village was transformed into posh holiday lets and the farm developed a successful organic veg box scheme. Willingden had begun to attract attention from weekending Londoners who parked their oversize Range Rovers in the narrow village streets in order to buy overpriced Willingden honey or cheese in the farm shop. The house was still a bit of a money pit, but Eddie managed to come up with a plan that would both pay for a new roof and get them out of debt in about ten years. 

And then there was Crowe and Alison. Their relationship, at least at the beginning, was characterised by quite a lot of drama and angst; they spent some time being on/off and there was cheating on both sides too. Sidney insisted that he and Charlotte stay neutral and out of it, and weirdly Eddie seemed content to stay out of it too, convincing Charlotte in the end that Allie approached things differently from the rest of them and could be trusted to find her own way. Eventually they found an equilibrium and worked towards building a future together, but perhaps that’s a story for another day…

***

With the publication of her second book, a monograph on Trafalgar House which won the Wolfson History Prize, Charlotte was made full Professor. The Bedford Place documents had been catalogued and organised many years ago and the family donated them to the National Archives, but not before Charlotte, in one of her many deep dives into the sources, came across a cache of letters belonging to the original Sidney and Charlotte Parker. 

Most had been written after their marriage in October 1820, but there was one letter in particular that caught Charlotte’s eye. Written in 1820 before the original Charlotte Heywood and Sidney Parker married in Willingden church, it was not exactly a love letter, though Sidney Parker’s emotion and love was clear in every line. It was something closer to an explanation of his previous life and his connection with Elizabeth Campion.** It also gave a cursory account of his activities in Antigua and his connection to the slave trade. The historical importance of the letter in terms of elucidating how slavery was the source for the wealth and speculation in the Regency period, immortalized and arguably whitewashed by Jane Austen and other great writers of the period, was fascinating, but the letter also felt extremely personal to Charlotte. 

Not only did it fill in so many of the blanks about the past and personality of this earlier Sidney, whose portrait now hung in the little granary at Whytcliffe, but the parallels between the original Sidney and Charlotte and her own life and love story were also frighteningly similar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Ocado – for people not in the UK – it’s an online grocery store.
> 
> ** If you want to read this letter please go to my Regency Sidlotte fan fiction “Sanditon Continued - A novella”. It’s in chapter 20 (it looks like there’s only one chapter but there are actually 24 or 25 – I just didn’t know how to post on AO3 then!) 
> 
> Other general comments:
> 
> * I envision my other fan fiction "Sanditon Continued – a novella" as the Regency/background history to this modern -AU story. 
> 
> * After I started writing I realised that this was quite a bit like A.S. Byatt’s “Possession” – a book I liked when I read it as an undergraduate, but never re-read and which currently languishes in section B/post-war literature on my bookshelves. There was also a forgettable film with Gwyneth Paltrow during that phase where everyone thought she had a great English accent. Jennifer Ehle and Jeremy Northam are in it too and they’re reliably good, but I can’t remember anything else about that film. Basically, like “Possession”, I played around with the idea of how to write history and how we interpret documents vs. "truth". 
> 
> * I don’t really picture Theo James, Rose Williams or any of the specific actors from the TV series beyond basic characteristics. I am not actually sure who I see here playing these characters. Can I admit (please, please don’t disown me!) that although obviously Theo James is objectively very gorgeous – he kind of doesn’t do it for me. He’s certainly more attractive to me when he’s rougher, with a beard etc., but generally speaking he’s a wee bit too pretty for my taste; also I am really distracted by his eyebrows – they look waxed – just sayin’ – no one needs to agree!! Feel free to imagine whomever you want in these roles!
> 
> * This is very heavy on the posh fantasy wealth porn, I realise – but I decided to just go with it! Yay for escapism!
> 
> * It makes zero sense that Georgie would not know about Simon's threatening letters, but hey ho.


	42. BONUS TRACK - A playlist of music for each chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a bonus information chapter for those interested in what I was listening to while writing. I was a bit uncertain about whether I should post this since taste in music is such a personal thing and my taste won't be for everyone, but I decided to just go for it. 
> 
> I generally listen to all genres of music - loud - and all the time while I write/work: radio, albums, cds, mix tapes from 1994, apple music, playlists compiled for me by my MUCH younger cousin etc. and a few songs jumped out at me as inspiration for different chapters, which in turn led to me putting together this list. With a few obvious exceptions, I stuck to music from 2020 and the last few years. 
> 
> It's pretty straightforward: one song per chapter. Here's the link to the spotify playlist.
> 
> Enjoy.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0DZp6tmOfofvLwbnzlbaTy

And in case you can't be bothered with Spotify - here's a list:

  1. New Slang - The Shins
  2. Lonely - Swamp Dogg
  3. Get Free - Major Lazer
  4. Rose Rouge - Jorja Smith
  5. Lust for Life – Lana del Rey, The Weeknd
  6. Might Bang, Might Not - Little Simz
  7. By Any Means - Jorja Smith
  8. Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish
  9. Talk - Khalid (feat. Disclosure)
  10. Vivrant Thing [Remix] (feat. Q-Tip - J. Period, Q-Tip 
OR Goodie Bag - Still Woozie 
  11. Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi
  12. Something About Us - Daft Punk
  13. Don't Delete the Kisses - Wolf Alice
  14. I Want you Around - Snoh Aalegra
  15. It's all so Incredibly Loud - Glass Animals
  16. In Your Eyes - The Weeknd
  17. Cranes in the Sky - Solange
  18. Such Great Heights - The Postal Service
  19. Night Drive - Ari Lennox
  20. All the Stars (with SZA) - Kendrick Lamar, SZA
  21. Save Your Tears - The Weeknd
  22. Heat Waves - Glass Animals
  23. Girl (feat. KAYTRANADA) - The Internet, KAYTRANADA
  24. Proserpina - Martha Wainwright
  25. Thinkin Bout You - Frank Ocean
  26. Mystery of Love - Sufjan Stevens
  27. Place to be - Nick Drake
  28. Please, Please, Please let me get what I want - The Smiths
  29. Two Weeks - FKA Twigs
  30. First Day of my Life - Bright Eyes
  31. Wait for You - Tom Walker
  32. Angels and Kings- Quarry
  33. Bros - Wolf Alice
  34. Destiny - Zero 7, Sia, Sophie Barker
  35. All of Me - John Legend
  36. Naked - Ella Mai
  37. Science of Silence - Richard Ashcroft
  38. I Wanna be Adored - the Stone Roses
  39. Simple Song - The Shins
  40. Baby it's You - London Grammar
  41. The Whole of the Moon - The Waterboys




End file.
